Fallen From Grace
by Belle of the Night
Summary: Sarah, suddenly finding herself trapped in the Underground with no way home, must face not only the two men in love with her but an unknown destiny... Remake of my old story Fallen From Grace. I've lost my backup files! JS & TS
1. Prologue: Fly Away From Here

Disclaimer:  Alright…  All characters and places and events and ideas coming from the original Labyrinth movie and storyboards belong to whoever holds the copyright to them.  Whatever.  All songs belong to their respective writers and singers and various administrative assistants and messenger boys.  The Emperor of China really has no important part in this disclaimer, but he really needs mentioned because:  He is, after all, the Emperor of China.

AN:  You have no idea how much this sucks!  I've lost my back-up files for this story, and now that they've erased it from , I have to write it all over again!!!!!!!!!!!!!  GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR…………………..  royally upset at the moment.  Sigh.  Okay, well, there's nothing left but to start!

**_PROLOGUE_**:   Fly Away From Here (Graduation)

Sun comes up and goes away

So does graduation day

You did your walk of fame and that was it

She turns to me like we're alone

Inside a secret telephone

And says the words that no one else can hear

She said I paid attention to myself

And found that I was someone else

Once a child but now I've grown within

So I'm packing all these golden years

I let them go without a tear

I let them go

And this is what she said

She said to me

She said

I

I believe that everyone can fly

Away from here

She said

I

I believe that everyone can fly

Away

Celebration through the night

Circle 'round this firelight

I guess this pack of wolves will pass for friends

And who's that coming up to me

Hope and opportunity

You better grab it fast, grab it fast

And hope it never ends

I

I believe that everyone can fly

Away from here

She said

I

I believe that everyone can fly

Away

Oh, it's the whisper of, whisper of, I feel it

If day is night and night is day

Which one took your love away

And which one will you use, which one will you use

Who's that coming up to me

Hope and opportunity

You better grab it fast grab it fast and hope

Hope

I

I believe that everyone can fly

Away from here

She said

I

I believe that everyone can fly

Away

Dropline      Fly Away From Here  (Graduation)

Sarah was tired.  Her hands loosely gripped the wheel of her brand new Audi A4, a peace offering from her father.  She paid little attention to the road, focusing on the more turbulent parts of her life and less on the chilly day around her.  The warm smell of new leather greeted her nose as the sun came out from behind a huge building.  It was Sarah's dad's corporate office, as a matter of fact.  It gleamed with its reflective glass and its modern curves.  He was doing so well that the family had moved out of their small, two-story house and into a much classier neighborhood, the denizens of a several acre property and a spacious, modern mansion.  However, playing the part of the big, powerful businessman was taking the humanity out of her father.  The car was a prime example.  He had bought it for her as a peace offering after another heated argument over Sarah's future college.  He hadn't presented the vehicle with a smile, hug or apology.  Not a word was spoken between them.  She just came home one day and found it in the driveway with her name emblazoned on the leather interior.  And in the ensuing four months, he refused to speak to her.  Not out of anger or contempt, but simply because the mechanism that allows humans to communicate feelings had somehow short circuited in him.

Karen was no better.  She had finally learned the art subtle manipulation from one of her various 'secret' boyfriends, and now smiled sweetly at Sarah, but always found some small way to make Sarah's life hell.  Sarah guessed that Karen's behavior could be considered mental and emotional abuse, but she finally saw Karen for what she was, and for the most part was able to ignore the small, frightened, insecure woman – and occasionally laugh at her. 

Another shadow passed across the sun and erased Sarah's unhappy thoughts as completely as if they it was a huge eraser.  Instead she turned her mind to tomorrow, and the opportunity to enjoy her much-awaited eighteenth birthday on her own.  Her parents didn't know it yet, but she was leaving and going to a very exclusive acting school on the east coast, thanks to her real mother's wonderful influence.  No more distant father or snake-like stepmother – only her dreams to keep her company and a smooth road ahead of her.  She'd been packed for weeks!

A passing car honked, and she returned the gesture, recognizing her ex-boyfriend and best friend.  Jason had become more to her than she had really anticipated on their first meeting when he had dumped spaghetti all over her white blouse at lunch.  Their relationship had developed wonderfully after that, leading to a mutual break-up because she was leaving.  He was her inspiration and motivation, and her sole cheerleader for her trip east.  It had been his idea to write to her biological mother in the first place. 

As she turned into her driveway, Fiona Apple came on the radio, and she sang along as she cruised into her three car garage.  Pulling the keys from the ignition, she continued to whisper the lyrics as she walked to the door.  "Darling, please give me your absence tonight.  Take the shade from the canvas and leave me the white…"

She stepped through the door and into her darkened living room.  "Let me sink in the silence that echoes inside…"  She dropped her purse on the sofa and proceeded upstairs, looking forward to a long, hot shower. 

"And don't bother leaving the light on…"  She turned the water on as hot as she could tolerate it and stepped into the shower.

"Cuz I suddenly feel like a different person…"  She stopped and stared through the haze to the slightly open door.  Was that a thump she heard downstairs?  After a few moments of silence, she shrugged and continued washing her hair.

"From the roots of my soul come a gentle coercion.  And I ran my hands o'er a strange inversion…  A vacancy that just did not belong…"  She toweled her hair dry, brushing it out and pulling it back.  Now for some snacks, she thought.

"The child is gone."  As she reached for the light switch, all of the lights flew on anyways, and at least fifty people jumped out from behind furniture shouting "Surprise!"  Balloons and crepe paper and a huge banner that said "Happy Birthday Sarah!" decorated the ceiling.  From somewhere a party hat was stuck on her head and a noisemaker shoved between her lips before she could collect herself. 

Brianne, her very best friend since the summer of her sophomore year, rushed up and hugged her.  "I'm so happy for you, girl!  It's just a shame that I'm gonna lose you to some dumb college!"  She pulled her perfect lips into a pout, and Sarah made an attempt at a reassuring smile.  She had always been secretly a little jealous of Brianne – the perfect socialite who could have any guy she wanted and was already a successful model on her way to the top.  But their differences had never come between them before, and she was happy that Brianne had thought of her on her final birthday as a child, and the first day of her adult life.

 The party commenced, and she found out that the thump she had heard was Jason tripping over her living room rug after coming in behind her.  They laughed about that as well as everything else and everyone went home glowing and happy, and in some cases, not a little drunk.  Sarah was left to reflect on her decisions while she cleaned up the mess.  The party was bittersweet – it had taken her so long to make people accept her, and now that they had, she was leaving it all behind, probably to fight the same long, arduous battles somewhere else. 

Still, the quiet moments before she fell asleep were filled with glowing emotions and a gentle peace that she could only remember feeling in one other place...

Jareth sat quietly, ignoring the tranquil popping of the fire and the half-full glass of celvassy sitting beside him.  He was too tired and frustrated to drink, even.  What with the war reports in the north, the border deterioration in the south and the trade disruption in the west, he had all but given up.  And now this pressure from his mother to take a wife, and from his father to produce grandchildren – heirs – as though his world were not already turned upside down.  For the very first time in his long, long life, he was tempted to sink to his knees and sob like a child. 

Kings and nobles from almost all of his neighboring countries had sent daughters and nieces and sisters as offerings for him, but none of them held any appeal for Jareth.  He supposed it was the gleam in their eyes when they talked about being his future "queen".  They wanted money and the title, and nothing more.  There were as many that were surprisingly open about their greediness as the ones that were conniving and scheming and sneaking.  Just a few hours earlier, he had been forced to chase another naked daughter of King Leon out of his room.  She had tried it twice already, and the mental image sickened him into taking a sip of the cold, mountain whiskey resting on the table next to him.  Just as desired, it went down hard and fast and left a trail of fire coursing through his veins.  It was exactly what he needed to clear his head. 

And then there was the human crisis.  The mortals didn't believe any more.  No one "wished away" a child, they just dumped them in the street or left them in a parking lot to cry out helplessly, and in that situation he could not help them.  He could only sit and watch as some perverted, disgusting specimen coaxed them into a car and sped off with them.  And with each passing day, the rift between the human dimension and his own world was growing smaller.  Those few children that were coming to him were barely small enough to fit through it, so that meant no older brothers or sisters taking the challenge any longer.

Thinking of human children made him think of Sarah.  She was the only one to ever accept and complete his test.  He had always wondered how such a powerful, willful soul came to be placed into a girl barely out of childhood herself.  He admired her – now more than ever – because she was living a simple life, probably on her way to a college, and enjoying the small amount of time she had to her to the fullest.  He yearned for her company – for the strength, youth, and vitality she radiated without even knowing it.  Shaking his head, he tried to clear his thoughts of that idea, for it would never be.  Not unless she willed it.  And she had probably all but forgotten about him. 

Sarah had indeed almost forgotten about the lonely Goblin King.  But some small part of her mind that still embraced fantasy as a livable reality gripped his image with all her might.  That's why, when Sarah dreamed that night, she dreamed of a certain tall, mysterious man with wild eyes and joyfully defiant hair.  e dHHHOf a distant Goblin King, a stately lord who danced with her, sang to her, held her close, and offered her wildest dreams for a mere nothing.  Sarah was no longer bitter over the trials of the Labyrinth – after all, she had wished it upon herself.  And on top of that, her traverse into the world of fantasy had only made her stronger.  It gave her the capacity for insight, which she had previously been lacking severely. 

As if in rebellion to this complacent adult that she had become, the other part of Sarah – the one that refused to grow up, and would always remain a happily insubordinate individual – wished with all her might to be able to see the Goblin King again.  She had scores to settle, and if he was a hunk on top of that, why not?

Sarah, thinking that she was dancing the night away in the arms of her elusive lord, tossed and turned through to dawn, and as the sun slipped over the horizon, a small, barely audible hiss escaped her lips:  "Jareth…".

She awoke not long after, still feeling tired but with the afterglow one gets when spending a nice time with someone whose company you enjoy.  She jumped out of bed, still disoriented and unsure of where she was.  Everything shortly came back to her, however, and with a great sigh, she walked into her bathroom, stepping into the shower.  Turning the water on, she began to meticulously clean herself, as she had done everyday since the age of five.  Her mother had always believed cleanliness was next to godliness, and Sarah shared this view.  Stepping out, she picked out her glossy black mane and blew it dry.  Afterwards, she experimented for an hour with different styles before settling on a complex design that Pierre – her mother's hairdresser – had shown her.  She shook her head, wanting some of the strands to fall loose – she enjoyed the feathery feel of them brushing against her cheek – before spraying it.  She had to make a good impression, so she wore make-up for the first time in a while.  It made her feel like she was hiding behind a mask, but in a way that was good.

Donning a brand new, Gucci business suit, she walked downstairs, mindful of her spike heels.  All she had left to do was to eat breakfast slowly, savoring some of the rare good memories.  After all, with her parents on a cruise in Jamaica and Toby at Boy Scout camp, she was at her own leisure to leave.  As she glided past the living room, she failed to notice the lithe blond figure sprawled on the couch.  Even as his eyes followed her around her kitchen, she paid him no mind, either unable or unwilling to see him. 

Changeling eyes pursued her as she busily and skillfully prepared a light breakfast.  The way her silky, raven hair twisted and turned reminded him of a painting of his great-grandmother, the High Queen, which hung in the main hall of his castle.  Thin, masculine lips pulled together into a wan smile at the irony – bittersweet emotion.  The man's gaze never left her delicate hands as she daintily fed herself and then cleaned the mess, the spotless kitchen staying that way because of it.  Then, pen in hand, she sat down to write a farewell note to her family.

The jet feathers of hair that framed her face gave her an ethereal look, and every time she brought the back of the pen to her full lips to nibble softly on it, he had to restrain himself from saying anything and breaking the spell that seemed to have fallen over her.  Quiet moments passed where he found himself numbed by her beauty and the aura she exuded effortlessly, unable to think or do anything but soak her up like a dry sponge absorbs water. 

A few more serene moments of watching her silently and the mute figure's lips pulled into a wider, self-mocking grin.  He shook his head almost imperceptibly and tapped his riding crop against a lean thigh out of habit.  Still she did not notice him, and maybe that was for the best.  At last, tears in her eyes, she signed the document with a flourish and picked up the keys lying beside her on the table.  There she paused and peered squinting into darkness of the living room, thinking she saw movement.  Shrugging, she turned and walked out to her packed car.  The blond figure did not flinch, but instead watched as she glided out the door.  Then, with a light chuckle to himself, he simply wasn't there anymore.

Driving past familiar houses and parks that held her treasure-trove of good memories, Sarah almost felt sad.  But with an upbeat song just **_made_** for road trips blaring over the radio and her entire life to look forward to, not a tear was shed, and she made it safely to the highway.  It was still fairly early in the morning on a Saturday, and many people were at home, enjoying breakfasts with their family before commutes to sports events and dance recitals.  The cars that labored along in the still-wan daylight were few and far between and she was inclined to let go, speeding along the coast, watching the raucous gulls try to race her. 

She felt her soul pull away from her body, and a surreal sense overcame her wits and suddenly she wasn't driving along the California coast, but was racing wild unicorns across and open field, with nothing but the silent world as a witness.  It was due to this detached, magical sensation that she didn't see the huge red oak falling until it was almost too late. 

For some unknown reason, the ancient tree had chosen that moment to tumble from its position on the hillock to its destruction.  Sarah, finding herself on a two lane road in the middle of nowhere with no idea how she got there had three choices:  either swerve to the left and smack into the large hill-like landmass that supported the growing forest of these massive trees, go straight ahead, total her car and possibly lose her life in the bargain; or she could veer to the right, ride the shoulder until the danger passed, and hope she didn't flip over into the ocean.

Quickly deciding that the latter was the best choice, she jerked her tires over onto the narrow strip of dirt separating her from the vast blue sea.  They caught, and with a mighty squeal the car bounced and flipped, the shimmering new paint and chrome glistening in the waxing sunlight, and then it plunged head first to dash against the devouring deeps below. 

Sarah, feeling that floating sensation again, only had the presence of mind to scream the first word that came to mind:  "**_Jareth_**!"

Jareth sat on his highly-polished marble throne listening to his top advisors tell him in their most diplomatic way that they had no idea how to solve their current problems, rubbing his temples and wishing for a drink and a nap.  The meeting was progressing from bad to worse, and while that little visit to Sarah early that morning had made him feel just the slightest bit better, it did nothing to ease his troubles.  He was happy that she was happy, however, and he clung to that thought as the desire to set the musty robes of the old fools on fire became almost too much to bear.  He had long since stopped paying attention to the bent, elderly men in their stately robes arguing over what form of action they should take to make themselves look the best.  Coming back to it, he could endure the noise no longer.  Taking his riding crop into hand, he sailed to his feet and slammed it against the arm of his throne.  "**_SILENCE_**!"

Not a single living thing moved in his entire castle, and the tension hung thick in the air as the frightened old men began to creep towards the door.

"I'm truly sorry, gentlemen, but it's obvious that we aren't getting anywhere with this discussion, and I have many other matters of importance to see to this morning.  So, if you would retire to your own chambers and think on what was said...?"  He waited for hesitant nods from the daft old wizards before saying, "We shall continue this later."  He dismissed them with a wave of his hand and sank back down onto the throne, grateful that he could be miserable in peace, at least.

After the Long Night's War, he had been forced to bring his kingdom into the midst of the court scene, or face being left behind by all the other realms.  That had lead to long night of… redecorating, so to say.  And the changes, while pleasing to the eye, made Jareth feel like a great fraud.  He hated the uncomfortable marble "torture device" they called a throne.  He missed his rock chair and the goblins running all about, making messes of things.  Even that had changed.  His subjects had agreed to undergo Evolution, a lengthy process of magic that had left him bed-ridden for almost six months afterwards.  At least now they were not disgusting troll action figures.  They each had gained more individual characteristics, which made them less simple and fun loving than they used to be.  The over-advancement of their society in a short period of time was what had caused the elves to meet their defeat and ultimate exile, and Jareth knew the tales of his cruel, ruthless ancestors all too well.  That was one reason his realm had been so barbaric when Sarah had come to visit – Jareth saw change as a threat, and with good reason.  By bringing so much Evolution to his own realm, Jareth's father had nearly destroyed his people and his wife had been bed-ridden ever since.  In his opinion, why should he face their fate, immortal that he was?  He would rather take a bath in the bog!  He chuckled at this.  That would have been something the goblins would have said before the Evolution.  Now, the bog was gone, filled instead with a crystalline spring and disgustingly cheerful flowers.

He sighed.  No sense in brooding here when he could go find some quiet bar in the human world and inhale their revolting smoke and drink their delicious liquor and wish that he were anything but Goblin King.  More than he cared to admit, he envied his best friend, Teriel.  Ter – the dark, handsome, mysterious nobleman and Jareth's best friend since childhood – was currently romancing some courtier or another, with no care for anything other than his current passion.  Rivals always but brothers first and foremost, no secret, no rift, lay between the men, who were, by immortal standards, still young boys.  Ter was always so lighthearted, as though he worried about nothing!  Always ready with a laugh and a smile and a kind, encouraging word.

Jareth began to feel a rage build up in him, and was about to escape to someplace where he could find a haven of peace when the walls of his castle rang with an ear-piercing scream that after a moment the Goblin King recognized as his own name. 

Without knowing how, Jareth knew that it was Sarah screaming for help.  Teleporting to her house as fast as he could, he looked around but did not find Sarah nor any sign of her, and desperately, he wove a spell to find her. 

The teleportation enchantment took him to a secluded spot many miles away, but he found no trace of Sarah or her bright car.  There was, however, a sense of terror and panic here, and seeing the skid marks, he bent down to touch one, tracing a rune softly in the air as he did so.

Immediately, Sarah, her raven hair flying, was driving towards him, a dangerously absent look on her face.  Too late, she saw a tree hitting the ground before her, and swerved to her right to miss the ancient thing.  Jareth watched the rest of it in horror before diving over the guard rails, unworried about his own well-being.

The water was icy cold, but he ignored it as he pushed down toward crushed shape of the demolished Audi.  Sarah hunched limply in the driver's seat, held down by her seat belt.  Her hand, pale as a winter landscape, floated above her, beseeching him to come and save her.  Reaching the side of the drowned car, he stretched across her to unbuckle the belt.  After fighting with it for a few precious moments, he realized with a blunt curse that it was jammed.  He tried for another few second to pull her free, but when her limp hand floated down from his without so much as a twitch, he realized the only way he could save her would be to take her to his world.  That was dangerous now, but it was his only choice if he wanted to save her.

He considered leaving her there and going for human help, but then he looked down and watched her beautiful ebony head slowly slump down to her chest.  Without a second thought, he reached out and touched her hand, and thought of home.  Immediately he was standing in his throne room holding the limp, dripping girl in his arms.  Everyone down to the lowest stable boy heard his bellow for assistance, and luckily Arne was one of the first people to show up, sword in hand. 

Jareth, exhausted from pulling a large, nonmagical creature through the rift, handed Sarah to the man and almost collapsed.  "You've got to get her upstairs.  Find a physician who knows something about mortals.  Fast!  I think she may have drowned!"  And Jareth collapsed upon himself on the floor and began to snore almost immediately while Arne went out to carry out his friend's wishes personally.  Sarah, meanwhile, was drifting.

It was less of the "Gates of Death" experience she had always feared and more of a surreal dream in which she did not participate, but only watched.  It was dark, and voices whispered near her: a nasty, grating, hissing voice that sent shivers up and down her spine and a smooth, silky one that multiplied her trembling one hundred fold.  They chattered back and forth, and the sickly way that one talked made her heart pound as though trying to escape the prison of her ribs. 

"Could it be?  Could it really be?  Be the one we were looking for, yeeesss…"  That last yes drew out into a snake-like hiss, and Sarah felt terror weigh down on her soul.

"If it is, you shall have no part of her!"  The powerful female voice replied, sounding angry.

"We do not wissssh to take her from you, O reverent one.  But, when you finissssh with her, could we, perhapssss, have a little taaasssstte…?"

"No!"  The voice sounded calm and deadly now, "I am your warder, I am your master, and you shall have no such fuel for your lust!  I know what you want, Irilana, and you shall not have it!  You will never see the outside of your prison so long as I live!" 

"Then we sshall have to sssseeeee about that now, won't we, darling?  Yeeesss, we will have to take measuresss to bring that around more quickly, ssshall we?"

"Make threats all you want," the cold voice answered, "But I will never let you out of your prison.  And I will never let any of you do to this poor girl what you have done to me.  She has enough trouble ahead of her as it is, if my intuition is as correct."

"Be that as it may, sssissster.  All the more reassson to make sssssure that you do not sssucceed in this endeavor to ressstore your precioussss Underground…  Those worthlessssss, ssssniveling humansss have proved to be more ussssseful to me than I ever imagined, and don't let thissss one fool you into thinking anything different."

A pinpoint of light in the darkness began to move towards her, and as it approached the voices grew dimmer.  It seemed to land in front of her, and then a figure stepped out of the brilliance.  She got an impression of long flowing hair and an oriental face.  Then the light faded and only a softly shimmering radiance encircled her, illuminating rather than obscuring her beauty, which was now obvious and obviously great to Sarah.

Large almond-shaped eyes tilted inwards, surrounded by a delicate frame of bones bound by elegant porcelain skin that was not the pale of gauze – fragile and too insubstantial – but a strong, healthy, opaque glow.  Not overly tall, but with a framework much like that of her face – a resilient frailty – covered by baggy, unassuming clothes that hid what Sarah knew was true perfection.  A quiver and bow hung from her back, only enhancing the image before her – Sarah assumed from her previous studies that it was some sort of sprite or wood fairy, perhaps an elf.  A delicate smile revealed perfect, straight teeth. 

"Hello, Sarah," An ancient voice issued forth from this person, the sound more sensed than heard.  "I have waited for a long time for you."  She noticed Sarah sizing her up and shook her head.  "Become familiar with me because we will be spending a tremendous amount of time together.  Right now, I am more a part of you than you realize.  We are as one." 

Sarah was confused, but before she could even make an expression of confusion, she was blinded by a radiant light that flashed like a nova, not around her but within her brain, and suddenly she had the strangest sensation of floating and falling at the same time, like she was being compressed into nothing.  No matter how much she flailed her arms and legs, however, the pressure just kept growing.  She faintly thought she heard the sounds of a struggle and a strained curse.

And then, with a very painful jolt, she was suddenly in a strange place, surrounded by strange faces.  She felt the pressing urge to cough, and when she did, salt water burned up through her throat and she spat it out as best she could through the terrible nausea.  Feeling as though her insides were inside out **_and _**on fire, she did the only thing she could comprehend at the moment:  faint.

Jareth watched anxiously over the bed as Sarah spat up a mouthful of water and then collapsed.  He looked at the medicio with terror in his eyes, but the withered old man just smiled.  "No, your highness, she is not dead – merely exhausted.  After all, coming back from the grips of Decanis is no small feat, and especially for a human.  A few days in bed with continuous magical care should have this woman back to normal in no time!"  He gave them a bright smile and bowed out of existence, probably back to wherever Arne found him.  Those medicios were like that:  there only until they could bow back out and not offend someone important. 

"Oh well," Jareth sighed, "At least she is okay now."  He pulled his blanket father up on his shoulders and he, too slept.  Tomorrow and its trials and tribulations would have to wait for tomorrow.  He had quite a bit of explaining to do…

Well, there is the start of the remake of 14 whole chapters, which are lost to me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  : (  You have no idea how terrible this is… If you are an old fan, yes quite a bit has changed, but most of it will remain intact, and the original storyline still stands, but with a more mature narrative!  I hope everyone is enjoying this!


	2. Chapter 1: One More Addiction

Disclaimer:  See Chapter One!  I still want to mention the Emperor of China simply because, for some odd, mysterious reason, even though I've never actually seen him or heard him talk, he makes for nice comic relief.

AN:  Okay, I have good news!  An amazing person has kept my story on file and is going to zip it and send it to me.  Now I don't have to feel too bad about losing both of my back-up discs to the great unknown…  Another thing:  I'm still continuing this revised version of the story simply because it needs it, though I will now have assistance from my previous version of this story.  I guess there is no other real news to report, so on with Chapter 1!!!!!!

**_CHAPTER 1:  _**One More Addiction

First the good news

It's gonna feel very nice

Then the bad news

You gotta pay a heavy price

Rip tide, we slide we ride on a deep forbidden sea

Under we go – so slow

And you're hanging onto me

And I say

Oh oh one more addiction in my world

Oh One more connection to let go

Oh floating down the river

Out of sight forever from my world

It's the only thing I know how to do

I reject you

But I can't follow through

I'd forget you

But you'd end up tappin' on my back door

Somehow I lost myself

In a tunnel long and black

Somewhere at the end, I pretend

There's a way of turning back

And I said

Oh oh one more addiction in my world

Oh One more connection to let go

Oh floating down the river

Out of sight forever from my world

Take a breath

Let it out

All the things you frown about are meaningless of course

Unless you're doing this for real I guess

I meant to but

I don't know what

Is in the way and could I say

It's you I bet

I won't forget

Maybe I'm not ready yet

Oh oh one more addiction in my world

Oh One more connection to let go

Oh floating down the river

Out of sight forever from my world

Natalie Imbruglia      One More Addiction

An unsteady sort of croak woke Jareth sometime later, and he started groggily, trying to jump out of his chair and failing miserably, unsure of where he was or what was making that noise.  Then he remembered:  the cold water, the dark head sinking in defeat, the exhaustion of pulling a fully-grown human through the rift.  He sat up more gingerly, conscious of the aches and pains that would be present for days after this ordeal.  Sarah was trying to cry out, but was unable to, probably from all the salt water she swallowed.  Before he was forced to drag his sore body from the chair and pour her some water from the carafe by her bed, Raven came in the door and completed the task for him.  Sarah lay back down and closed her eyes.

Then, brushing the wild blond hair back from his cheek with a tender hand, Raven poured him a glass of the magically chilled water as well, watching carefully until he finished.  Then she took the glass from him and sat down on the edge of the bed facing him, straightening his blankets as she did so.  Assuring herself that he was comfortable, her soft violet eyes hardened, and the Goblin King knew what was coming. 

"So, my dear Jareth.  Here you are.  Having returned from a trip Aboveground to save some helpless **_human_** in distress.  Now, after almost killing yourself trying to pull her dead-weight through the rift, you sleep by her bed and have her watched over at all times.  Let's review this:  callous Goblin King rescues young human girl and almost kills himself trying to drag her half-dead body back home.  The rumors are spreading like a cancer, Jareth, and none of them benign.  Most of the southern provinces have withdrawn their negotiators.  They think you've gone mad and found some human concubine to satisfy your lusts until you die from blood poisoning or some such.  There is talk about the rest of them drawing back as well, and joining the war effort.  One must stop to ask oneself:  Whatever possessed you to do it?"

Jareth coughed softly and smiled.  "Well, Raven, I knew that you would be skeptical, but I didn't think you would attack me the moment I woke up!  Can't a king get some rest and recovery?"

"No, Jareth, not with things the way they are.  You don't have to answer me – I am after all nothing but another one of your subjects.  But as one of your best friends since childhood I would love to know."

He sighed.  "I understand Raven.  Probably better than you, but I still don't…" 

"Don't what?"  She prompted.

"I don't know what I'm going to do.  Sarah is not going to be happy with me when she wakes up."

"Sarah?"  Raven turned around to gaze at the girl who had turned over in her sleep with her back to them.  "**_The_** Sarah?  Jareth, what were you thinking?"

"That's just it…  I **_wasn't_**.  All I know is that I heard her scream and then I was desperately trying to find her before I even knew what had happened.  And now here she is, Underground again.  And what am I going to tell her when she wakes up?  Answer me that Raven."  The color had gone out of his cheeks, and he stared at her with eyes as dead as space.

She pursed her lips and replied with silence, but as always with Raven, Jareth could not interpret the unspoken language of the elfin beauty and was forced to wonder if she was truly angry with him or contemplative.  Long lashes hid her sparkling amethyst eyes from him and she stood to leave, saying over her shoulder as she slipped out the door, "If you need anything else, please call."

Jareth sighed and shook his head.  Women were a complete and total mystery to him.  But Raven was not the problem.  Jareth had known her for more years than he cared to count, and she would deal with her inner demons in her own time and in her own way.  His real problem was the mysterious human girl that lay with her back facing him. 

Unable to find a comfortable position in his chair, he pulled his blankets up around his shoulders and studied the still form closely.  He noticed some changes from the last time he had seen her.  The jet black mane was a little longer, brushed out and well cared-for thanks to the motherly administrations of Raven, who had dedicated an hour to combing it.  It rippled across the pillow behind her, and he longed to reach out and touch it.  He stopped himself just in time, and shook his head.  The smooth, silk comforter clung to her curvaceous form with a tenacity that made Jareth envious.  He remembered a dream he had had, some night not too long ago.  And though any dreams were a rarity for immortals, this one in particular Jareth remembered:  Sarah, dancing the night away with him, as she had done before, in the Labyrinth.  But this time, she did not resist his call.  This time, she stayed with him. 

He mentally slapped himself.  What was he **_thinking_**?  Sarah was Sarah:  A **_mortal_** **_girl_**; a spiteful, willful creature that would be so unhappy once she found out about her situation that she might actually try to kill him.  And besides, she was beautiful, yes, but she was nothing compared to some of the women he had turned down.  And even if all that was not true and she was everything he was looking for in a woman, she was a **_mortal_**!  The High King would have his head and then divide his kingdom up between the surround five provinces without blinking an eye.  And the man would have no qualms about doing it either, because Jareth was already under council scrutiny over that fiasco with Teriel and Raven.  The last thing he needed was a fling with some girl, especially **_this_** one…

Raven, pressing an ear to the wall, listened for noise within before knocking three quick, successive taps.  Long moments of silence passed before a loud thump issued from behind and heated whispering, then two knocks answered.  She gave Ter a moment to step back, and then traced a quick rune on the wall in front of her.  There was a brief moment and then a door opened up where there was none before. 

Ter stood in the middle of the room, half-dressed, an abashed look on his face, and his sheets missing from his bed.  "Hehe, sorry, sis… I was, uh, otherwise occupied."

Raven noticed a large ruby necklace on Teriel's bureau and she shook her head, torn between laughing and scolding.  "My dear, dear brother… Will nothing sate your lusts?  Here we are on the brink of war, Jareth's going through some sort of mortal passion phase, and you're sleeping with the Countess of Rel.  Might I point out that she has a husband reputed to be most skilled swordsman seen in a thousand years?  What will you do when he comes to defend his wife's honor?  Will you plead with him that you are, yet again, otherwise occupied?"

He drew himself up to full height and tried to look as stately as possible in half-laced breeches and a shirt that hung from one arm.  "No, sister.  I will respectfully decline on the premise that I have no doubt of his wife's honor, and he shouldn't either."

Raven laughed.  She loved her brother for the hopelessly carefree spirit that he was.  But she also knew that his charm and his wit and his way with ladies would get him into trouble he couldn't get out of one day.  There was absolutely no sense in telling him that, either, because he would scoff and reply that that day wasn't upon him yet.  And maybe he was right.

"The human Jareth dragged in last night was none other than **_the_** Sarah.  Yes, it seems that Jareth is a little more familiar with the girl than he understands.  He refers to her as 'Sarah', and wonders what he will say to her, as though he had to explain to her that he saved her life.  As though he couldn't just order the little wench around."

Ter, attempting to straighten his clothes, stopped to study his twin closely.  Normally, Raven was a light-hearted if grave being who held no grudges.  He did not want to know the demon that had put her into such a spiteful mood. 

"Hmm, sister.  What makes you so hateful towards the girl?  Am I sensing jealousy?"

Raven wondered as well what made her upset about the mortal.  It was no more Sarah's fault that Jareth chose that moment to fall in love with her than it was her fault that she was human.  And besides, Raven understood that it was no more her place to judge the girl than it was her place to judge Jareth. 

"No, brother.  You know better than I that it is not jealousy, but you are right.  I guess it's all this tension from the threat of war.  I mean, what **_right_** has Jareth to take off in the middle of war negotiations and just go chasing after his forbidden love.  And of course, Ter, this is just that.  Oh, how he's tried to hide it, but we've both heard him mutter her name more times than I care to remember.  Of course, now, when we need him most of all, when his kingdom needs him most of all, he has to rush off after a woman that will never be his.  And on top of all that, his father will have his head if he ever found out!"

"You're right."  Ter agreed as he settled his dark jacket over his clothes.  "But we both know Jareth.  His heart is set and there will be no changing it.  And the High King can be dealt with, if and when that situation comes.  It may just be that the human will not survive in this atmosphere and we will have no worries.  But I fear that fate has chosen different for our friend."

Raven settled on the well-tossed bed and hugged her knees to her chest, resting a delicate chin on her arms and closing her eyes.  "Will we ever have peace, my dear brother?" 

Ter, looking his normal stunning self in his sleek, black clothing, merely laughed.  "That is for time and a lot of good wine to decide.  Come with me to take some dinner to our beloved Goblin King."

Raven watched him waltz out of the door as though cares were something for lesser beings, and wanted to cry. 

Then she remembered the resolution she had made to be strong and no longer a burden to anyone.  She lifted her chin and blinked back her tears before chasing after her twin with her head held high.

They walked in on quite an amusing scene.  The Goblin King, having regained his legs and changed his clothes, stood near the huge roaring fire.  The mortal girl, Sarah, curled on the bed as far away from Jareth as she could get, her sheets wrapped about her as tight as she could get them.  Both glared at the other, and were unaware of the other two people in the room.  Sparks flashed between hazel and changeling eyes and Teriel could feel the heat between them.  Just what Jareth needed:  A woman as stubborn and willful and spiteful as himself. 

Ter, being a man and more importantly one particularly tuned to the opposite sex, realized from the moment he saw Sarah what about her captivated his friend.  She was no mere mortal, but a fire goddess, her every feature imbued with what looked to be all the magic and passion of a raging volcano.  She had a beauty quite unlike anything Ter had ever seen, and he had looked upon and touched plenty of that.  He felt a deep heat down in the pits of his stomach.

Raven, who had yet to come through the door because he was blocking it, gave him a rough nudge, and he stumbled forward.  Trying to hide his embarrassment, he began to talk rapidly.  "Uh, um, Jareth… We brought you and your visitor something to eat but this looks like a bad time so I guess we'll leave…"

He turned to go, but Raven was blocking his way and soon Jareth called him back.  "No, Teriel, that will be quite alright."  Ter noticed that the man didn't tear his gaze from the human's.  "I was just getting hungry, and I'm sure my dear **_guest_** will be as well."

The twins knew that tone of voice all too well.  Jareth was obviously angry that his will had been thwarted, but unlike anyone they had ever seen, Sarah was not about to back down.  She just pulled her bedclothes tighter around her.  "Thank you.  I would love something to eat right now."

Ter offered her the tray, accidentally brushing his hand against hers as she reached for it.  She stopped, and there was a shrewd look in her eyes as she gingerly set the food on the bed.  Ter knew that Jareth had seen, and felt like melting into the floor.

Raven saw as well, and wanted to slap her brother for making matters worse.  His days as a skirt chaser would soon be over if she had anything to do with it.  She would have to have a talk with him later on that evening if the Countess of Rel wasn't occupying his time. 

She cleared her throat.  "So, uh, Jareth.  Are you feeling up to coming to the war council in a few minutes?  I can, ah, arrange for Sarah for the moment.  Perhaps a hot bath and some, ah, clothes?"  She gave Sarah a tentative smile which the girl returned full force with a nod, contented to ignore the two men in the room, which was probably for the best considering they both had the maddened looks of two rutting dogs fighting over one female.

"Um, Jareth, Ter?  Are we ready to go?  It would not be wise to be late…"

The Goblin King grumbled unhappily and stalked out the door, but Ter remained behind.  Sweeping the human a graceful bow, he reached out and took her hand before she realized what had happened.  Kissing it softly, he whispered, "We shall meet again soon, my dear lady."  He gave her one of his most dazzling smiles but could do nothing else before his sister cuffed him upside the head and practically dragged him out of the room. 

With the door safely closed behind them, Raven smacked her brother again.  He ducked underneath her third blow and grasped her hand to stop the abuse.  "What in the name of all the Gods was that for?!"

"You deserve a thousand times more!"  She whispered heatedly.  "Are you trying to start trouble for both of us?  With all this talk of war around us, the last thing we need is you and Jareth fighting over some girl!  And a human on top of that!  What if the High King found out?  Huh?  Our position of sanctuary, nay, our lives will be forfeit!  And don't you think for one moment that I will go down with you over your voracious lusts!"

Ter's initial reaction was to shake his head and tell her that he didn't know what she was talking about, but he saw the look in her eyes and realized the danger he faced.  So, he bowed instead and gave his sister the most completely innocent gaze he could muster.  "I'm sorry, sis.  I don't know what came over me.   I just had to do it.  She has these eyes…"  He trailed off when he saw her tense up, the fire rekindled.  "Anyways, we need to be getting to that war council now.  I'm sure Jareth's just lost without us."

Raven was not placated, but still fuming.  Sighing, she followed her brother quietly because she knew that, when things came down to it, her brother's choices were his own and no one else's – he would not let even her influence them.  All she could do was hope that his passion for the mortal was well and quickly spent, for the sake of everyone involved, including Sarah.  As she thought of the girl, she remembered her promise of a hot bath and a change of clothes.  She sent out messages to the servants in the house, just as Jareth might have done had he not had so much on his mind.  Thinking of poor Sarah's taste in clothes, she hesitated before telling them to bring her something out of her own wardrobe until other arrangements were made.  Raven was not thinking of a seamstress, but a quiet, unobtrusive way to send the woman home.

As they approached the room where the council was being held, they could hear Jareth's quiet voice occasionally, but it was mostly being drowned out by another deeper, harsher bellow.  Raven, having known the Goblin King since they were both small children, could hear the barely restrained anger in the man's voice.  There was the murmur that always accompanied his ancient advisors, but they were not inside with their king.  Instead they were standing in a musty-smelling cluster in the corridor, not even bothering to conceal their curiosity.  "What goes on within, old man?"  She asked one that seemed at least partially alert.

"King Darius has come to offer his daughter's hand in marriage…" There was a slight pause and the bent old man's eyes lit up with momentary life.  "Again."

Raven knew what that would mean.  Jareth owed the ugly, pugnacious little troll a favor from when he had offered assistance during the Long Night's War.  The short, rotund man had come to Jareth's aid at the last minute, swelling his numbers and providing just the right distraction for the final blow to be struck.  And the evil creature had not let Jareth forget that.  Not in all the hundreds of years hence.  Just recently, he had showed up again at the palace doors, demanding that Jareth finally repay the favor.  The Goblin King had been delighted… until he understood what was requested of him.  Darius demanded that in return for his assistance and continued support, Jareth had to marry his youngest daughter. 

Now, through some fluke of nature or by the power of dark magic on the blackest night, all of Darius's many children had not only come out female, but beautiful girls.  Ta'en, his youngest – named after the Goddess of Song – was the most appealing of them all – at least, outwardly.  After a few minutes of conversation with her, however, that opinion changed.  She was just as loud, obnoxious, rude and arrogant as her father, and made no effort to hide it.  She pouted when she didn't get what she wanted and gloated when she got something that she believed everyone else envied her.  Not to mention that she had had her fair share of disreputable acquaintances and more affairs than the court could gossip about in a century.  And since immortals – descended from elves – mated for life, if Jareth ever gave in and agreed to the lunacy then he would be stuck for all eternity. 

Raven had always hated the fact that she could trace her bloodline back to the elves, but their custom of not marrying lightly was one that the demure woman respected.  She did not, however, understand the reason that all royalty for as long as she remembered had been married, whether by choice or by force.  Which was Jareth's predicament now:  there was no way that he was going to marry any of these greedy sows laying around his palace.  And yet, there was no way he could escape it.  If only that human girl that he had a fling for was anything but human…

She shook her head violently.  What was she thinking?!  She was just borrowing trouble for everyone involved by imagining that Sarah would bring anything but destruction if she ever got involved in the Underground.  Not to mention that the High King would have his son's head if he ever married anything but the best.  No, that mortal would do greatest by agreeing to be taken back and forgetting the Underground ever existed.  And Jareth would do greatest if he voluntarily forgot that the dark-haired woman existed as well.  But she knew Jareth and she had heard all about Sarah.  That would never happen.

The silence that had come from the room only a few minutes ago began to echo loudly, then the door slammed open and Darius marched out, several feet shorter than the aloof Goblin King.  He turned to glare at Jareth with his beady eyes and shouted for all the world to hear:  "Just wait, Jareth. You will regret this decision more than I do helping you all those years ago!"  And he marched down the hall, his excess fat bouncing in time to his exaggerated steps.  And Jareth just stood within, glaring into space.  The snooping old men rushed him, all chattering at once, but he quieted them with one cold look. 

"Gentlemen, if you will, I have much to accomplish this day, so be brief."  They all nodded and shuffled their papers and took seats, glancing uneasily at each other." 

Sarah sank down into the warm water with a grateful sigh.  She was a bit confused about her current situation, but with her aching body demanding rest and rejuvenation, she was willing to go with the flow for the moment.  She watched the goblin in the corner play with her skirts in a bashful manner.  They didn't look like goblins anymore, but children.  And, as a matter of fact, that's what they were, which made it even more ironic.  Sarah blushed powerfully as she reflected on her conscious arrival at the Underground.

When she woke up, Sarah remembered feeling the sensation of eyes burning holes in her back.  She sensed silk all around her and immediately recognized that she was lying on her side with no clothes on.  The next thing she knew, she felt a foreign hand caress her body, up and down her side in soft, gentle strokes.  She instantly felt an answering heat in the pit of her stomach and she shivered inwardly.  She felt the sheets being pulled off of her body, and knew that what was happening was wrong.  The hand began to explore in ever more bold strokes.  Even as she trembled at the fire in the pit of her belly, she waited patiently for him to put himself in the right position.

His hand moved around her body and rolled her over on her back.  She squeezed her eyes shut and prepared to hit him as hard as she could.  Parting her lashes slightly, she thought she saw the Goblin King leaning over her.  I must be dreaming, she thought as his lips caressed hers.  She opened her eyes completely and saw that it was indeed Jareth, and that he was kissing her again, this time roughly, his mouth claiming hers.  Part of her answered him and arched into his caress as his hand slid around her back.  The other part, the sensible one that made all her decisions, brought her foot up and kicked him in the stomach. 

He collapsed and grunted, and with one shove he was off her.  She grasped the bedclothes beneath her in a reflex, pulling them up around her defensively.  Both glared at the other, their eyes filled with chagrin and not a little lust.  Sarah was the first to regain control, and shouted, "What did you think you were doing, you pervert?!" 

His nostrils flared and his changeling eyes seemed to spark with a fantastical flame.  "You didn't seem to be arguing!  And if I recall correctly, I saved your life!  You should be grateful!"  He stalked to the far side of the room where he stood with his back to her, staring into the flames.

Unable to think of a suitable comeback through her mortification, Sarah could only reply, "That still doesn't make it right for you to almost rape me!"

He turned to look at her and Sarah watched his eyes ice over, all the color drain from his skin and wondered if she had gone too far.  "Rape you?  Me?  Ha!  Don't flatter yourself, girlie.  You wouldn't be worth the trouble it would take to ensure that you don't become pregnant.  I've turned down women twice as beautiful and thousands of times wealthier than you!  And might I remind you again that I saved your life!  If anything you should be kissing my toes and begging me to let you repay me.  You forget too easily who I am, Sarah."  There was a dangerous note in his voice, and she shuddered.  Then there came a few light taps on the door and in walked the most amazingly handsome man Sarah had ever seen.  Except, perhaps, Jareth.

"You rather enjoyed that more than I did, I should say."  A strangely familiar voice said to her.  She blinked her eyes and realized that suddenly the room seemed much colder and certainly darker.  The water had gotten chilly, and she still hadn't any soap.

"Huh?"  She looked around for the goblin maid that had been waiting by the door and realized that she was no longer there.  Terror filled her heart and she sank down even lower into the rich, bubbly water. 

"Don't try to deny it.  **_I_** know how much you wanted that even if you don't.  What I don't understand is **_this_**:  Why did you stop?"  Suddenly Sarah was staring into a pair of almond-shaped, sapphire eyes that she remembered only vaguely.  Feathers of raven hair as dark as the night itself bordered a delicate framework of tiny bones.  She knew this woman…

"I mean, come on.  It's not like you were completely ignorant to what he was doing…  There were those lucky few back on Earth, and if both of us remember correctly they were not displeased with you."  She stood and walked over to stand by the fire, her soft-soled feet not making a sound as she glided.

"What are you talking about?  Who are you?  What do you want with me?"

"Don't tell me you don't remember?"  Her eyes were like frost on the coldest morning of winter.  And then Sarah remembered a strange dream with voices, and this terrible and beautiful woman. 

"What are you doing here?  How do you know all of those things?  Even my boyfriend didn't have a clue about… them." 

She sighed the sigh of someone who was trying to explain something to a half-wit and losing patience.  "Haven't we already been over this?  I am a part of you, Sarah.  Only you can see me at the moment because I'm still getting used to our surroundings, but I am as real as this fire."  She kicked it with a small boot and it hissed and popped as though something wet and evil had been thrown on it. 

"I guess you will only understand me with time.  Maybe I should make you go see Rhille and Irilana.  I'm sure that they would be able to give you a better explanation than I could, but I guess that should be left for later.  Right now all you need to know is that I am a part of you forever.  Never let your guard down, Sarah."

And then she was gone, and Sarah came around to find that the small goblin who had waited for her was shaking her with a terrified voice.  "Oh, I'm sorry miss.  I must have dozed off!  Please wake up!"

"I'm awake, I'm okay."  Sarah replied.  She sat up and rinsed off with a bucket of water that had been sitting beside the mammoth tub.  Then she jumped out and accepted the huge towel the small creature offered.  Then she followed her into the bedroom she had been occupying earlier where an outfit lay across the bed, waiting.  

"Mistress Raven gave me leave to lend you one of her outfits since you didn't have anything to wear, and we knew you wouldn't like a dress." 

"Thank you very much."  Sarah said, and smiled as the tiny creature blushed and ran a foot across the carpet bashfully.  It really was like speaking to a little girl, Sarah realized, before remembering that the creature had at one time actually been a little girl. 

She quickly changed, feeling uncomfortable in the fit of the smaller woman's clothes. 

Raven was delicately boned like the being that Sarah had dreamed about – short and elfin, an ethereal beauty.  Sarah was almost a full foot taller than her, and her trim body still managed to strain against the clothes, making the human feel cheap.  She pulled and tugged at them, especially around her chest area, wishing that there was some way to fix them.  Sarah was forced to go barefoot, because she most certainly couldn't wear heels with pants and the boots that had been given her from 'Raven's' closet would in no way fit her feet.  The goblin giggled at her.

"We'll have to find you some clothes that **_fit_**, and soon lady."

Sarah could do nothing but blush. 

Ter came out of the meeting feeling more exhausted than he had at any other time of his life.  He realized Jareth's dilemma:  his council of advisors were really nothing more than a bunch of spineless, sniveling old fools.  He hadn't paid much attention to what they said, however, because he was focused on the fire goddess he had met this morning, remembering the way the sheets hugged her curves.  He mentally smacked himself.  He, of course, had been known far and wide as a man not afraid to dabble in a relationship fraught with peril – his little fling with the Countess of Rel was sure proof of **_that_** – but even he knew better than to get involved with a mortal.  That was like stretching your neck out to make a better target for the axe. 

But still, the thought of her – fire in those hazel eyes, wild raven hair flying – made him shiver.  Maybe it was just his passion for good women that made him lust after her so, but whatever it was, he could not help thinking of her. 

He turned the corner to immediately see her stepping out of her doorway, a little unsure but not about to show it.  Without realizing what he was doing, he stepped back around the corner, hoping she hadn't seen him.  He peeked again.  She was striding purposefully down the hallway, her hair billowing out from her face, looking like a wood elf – an Amazonian treasure from long ago, strong and beautiful and confident.

He heard her soft footsteps approaching him, and just before his hiding place was found out, he turned the corner as though he had just been walking and smacked right into her, enjoying the feel of her warm body against his.  The force was a little too strong for her, however, and she fell backwards and landed on the carpet.  "Oh!  I'm sorry.  Please, let me help you."  He held out and hand and gave her his most alluring look.

She smiled and accepted it, her meager weight nothing as she tugged against his arm.  "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I wasn't looking where I was going."  She got a slightly bashful, confused look.  "Wait.  I guess I mean I wasn't sure where I was going…" 

Ter couldn't be sure, but he thought he read her lips as she uttered, "You can't get where you're going if you don't **_know_** where you're going…" 

He didn't know what to think about that, but he did know that he would be more than happy to show her around… Perhaps a little tour ending at his bedroom.  He had quickly lost interest in the Countess of Rel – who was, as a rule, a singularly uninteresting personality.  He was tired of all his current affairs.  Maybe he just needed a bit of change.  And what better than a mortal to spice up his spare time?  "I would be honored to show you around.  I mean, if you would like, miss…?"

"Sarah. My name's Sarah.  And you are…?"

"Teriel, but most people call me Ter…"

"Teriel… isn't that…?"

"Yes, yes," he interrupted, "Unfortunately the only thing my father is willing to give me."  He flashed a dazzling smile.  "Now, how about that tour?"

"I would be delighted."  She replied, a little dizzy with her immediate acceptance of her new surroundings and the need to show Jareth that she could function in his world – beat him at his own game.  She offered her arm as gracefully as any Queen and he took it as deftly as any King. 

"Shall we?"

"Raven."  Jareth called after the beauty as she was exiting the meeting hall.  She spun on her heel, an ebon splendor to match that of her brother's. 

"Yes, Jareth?"

"Please, come back.  I would like to talk to you." 

She smiled and returned, though her stiff bearing betrayed her emotional state.  "Yes, Jareth?  Is there anything I can help you with?"

He shook his head.  "Please don't be upset with me, sis.  I understand that you don't approve of what I'm doing, or at least, what you think I'm planning to do, but I can assure you that it will have no lasting effect on you.  I figure I at least owe it to Sarah to save her life… After all, she has been the only one to ever best me.  I like that kind of challenge.  And, with your help and her consent, I'd like to keep it around for a long time to come."  He stared meaningfully into her deep violet eyes.  She had always meant more to him than anyone else, except, perhaps, her brother.  They had protected each other from the time they were both small children playing tricks on the castle chef, through wars and depressions up until now.  He did not want to lose her support just when he needed it most.

Great tears welled up in her eyes, and with effort she fought them back.  But she could not stop herself from rushing him and wrapping her arms around him in a suffocating hug.  "You think that I'm mad at you, Jare?  Do you think that is the reason I've been this way?"  She let go for a moment to brush wetness from her eyes, then latched back on with admirable force.  "Well, maybe a little at first, but… Mostly I'm just scared.  Scared of what could happen to you if you get caught.  You know the law, probably better than I do.  You know the penalty for bringing an adult mortal here for more than twenty-four earth hours!  Oh, how I wish that you would just give it up and send her back home.  **_No_** human is worth your life."  What she thought but didn't add was that if he continued with his campaign then he would probably be forced to fight and kill his best friend since childhood.  Ter was at that very moment leading the hapless girl around one of the more beautiful gardens, falling more in lust – love? – with every word spoken.

Jareth checked his anger and reminded himself that this was the beautiful little thing that he had loved for most of his fleeting adolescence and that she was only apprehensive about his well-being.  "I understand your concern, Raven, but I want you to believe me when I tell you I **_know_** what I'm doing.  Just spend a few hours with her and you will understand.  The aura she exudes is no more that of a human than yours or mine.  That's why I believe that if my father does find out, he need only talk to her for a little bit and he would support the marriage."

"And what about her, Jareth?  What if she won't agree to your madness?  What if she falls in love with someone else or wants to return to her precious Earth?" 

Jareth smiled down at her.  "Sarah's choices are her own.  If she wants to go home then so be it."

"Promise?"

"I promise."  He kissed the top of her forehead and sent her away with a message for Ter.  It wasn't until she was sitting on her brother's bed later that she realized that Jareth had never mentioned anything about what he would do if she fell in love with someone else.

Sarah realized that she rather liked Teriel.  He had flashing grey eyes that were always shadowed like they hid some great, dark secret.  He had a bright, charming smile that dazzled her, and was filled with no end of stories about his and Raven's and Jareth's childhood antics.  He was the perfect complement to the bright, sunshiny day and the beautiful grounds of Jareth's new kingdom.  The gentle, loving, caressing way he held her arm, the way he talked to her – focused on her – made chills run up and down he spine.  He whispered in her ear like a lover – low, smooth, quiet, knowing.  She suddenly felt his gorgeous eyes on her face and had to fight off her blush. 

They had stopped in front of a particularly captivating fountain of a unicorn rearing in the sun.  It was exquisitely, almost terrifyingly life-like, though unlike most unicorns Sarah had come across, this one was black.  He continued to stare and as she fought to control herself.  After composing her countenance to a perfect still, she turned to face him, only to find a strange little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.  Just then she noticed his hand, which was sliding across her shoulder and creeping up her neck.  She felt like a furnace, she was giving off so much heat.  She didn't know what she was doing. 

The smile never fading, he leaned down and just barely touched her lips with his own, feather-light.  She felt like a little girl receiving her first kiss:  unsure of what she was feeling or what she was expected to do – just caught in a moment she wasn't sure was real.  He let out a shuddering breath that brushed her face as his lips had just moments before and then he was not there.  Her eyes popped open, disappointed at the let-down, but he had not left her.  He was still staring, smiling, not in the least awkward. 

He turned to the unicorn fountain that glistened like dark crystal in the brilliant sunlight.  "This is Jareth's most prized possession.  It was given to him as a symbol of thanks by an amazing woman a long, long time ago."  There was a wistful note that overtook the afternoon from then on, and Sarah still didn't understand what she was doing in the Underground or what she was going to do about it, but that didn't matter.  She rather liked her new surroundings, much better than she would've liked the acting college that she should've been attending.  That realization startled her, mostly because she had hated everything to do with the Underground in the years after her adventure… or so she thought.

She turned to her guide.  "Teriel, why am I here?"

"It's Ter."  He replied.  "And whatever do you mean?  You're here because you were brought here."

She shook her head.  "That's not what I mean.  I understand the fundamentals of **_how_** I got here, but there has to be some greater reason for me to be, because I am not panicking at the moment.  I feel so at ease here, like this is where I was **_meant_** to be.  Think about it:  any other human being thrown into this position would be on the verge of madness…"  She sighed and shook her head, her thoughts suddenly foggy.  "I don't know what I mean.  Forget I said anything.  Continue, Ter."  She flashed him a light smile and wondered why she couldn't think straight. 

Ter understood what she meant in a vague sort of way, but didn't say so because he couldn't fully explain it to himself.  Instead he laughed, and looked deep into her beautiful hazel eyes, so fully of life, and whispered, "Well, whatever reason you may have for being here, I'm certainly glad of it."  He brought her hand up to his lips and brushed it ever so gently. 

"I'm afraid, my beauty, that I must be on my way," He gave a meaningful glance up at a far window.  "My sister has need of me."  He gazed down into her eyes once more and then was gone.  Sarah's only reaction was to stare at the spot he had occupied moments before with a dumbfounded expression.  But after a few moments, a smile crossed her lips and she felt a high-pitched, silvery giggle building up in her chest.  All she wanted to do was break free the bonds society had laid on her and spin in circles like a little girl in ecstasy.  Regardless of what she was supposed to be feeling, she belonged here, and she knew it. 

Sarah heard a mocking laugh from somewhere behind her and turned to find the black-haired woman from that morning.  She was standing on the fountain, leaning against the delicate and beautiful statue.  Sarah couldn't help but think that even with all her gorgeousness, she looked obscene and evil in comparison to the effigy.  "Oooh, I think Sarah's in love!"  A cruel smile crossed her lips.  "Do you know about him, Sarah?  He is Ter, short for Teriel.  Brother to the coldest ice maiden in the Underground.  But he is the inferno to her glacier.  He is the sunlight to her frost.  He is a shameless flatterer who wants nothing more than the memory of a good night in bed.  He has had more conquests than anyone in recent history, Sarah.  Now, now, what's the Ninth going to do with a lover like that?  You need someone that's really going to do you justice… Someone like… Jareth?  Perhaps?"

"What**_ever_** are you talking about?  And just who are you?"  Sarah put a fist on her hip and stood there, determined to get some answers. 

She took a graceful leap down, landing soundlessly on the grass beside Sarah.  The human felt a sudden chill as she leaned closer.  "I am **_you_**, Sarah."  She took a step back and began pacing around the fountain, eyeing it with a smile.  "Or rather, I am what you have to potential to become."  She stopped and turned to face Sarah, who hadn't budged.  "You know, you were right, just now.  There is a greater reason for you to be here.  Greater than you or anyone else can possibly imagine.  And I am part of that reason."

"What exactly did the dear Teriel tell you about this fountain anyways?  I was too busy laughing to pay attention."

"Simply that it was Jareth's most prized possession and it was given to him as a symbol of thanks." 

She laughed again.  "He said that?  Well, I guess that's one way of putting it."  She touched the Unicorn, petting its neck gingerly as if it were real.  Sarah was sure she imagined it when the horse's neck twitched as if trying to shy away.  "Her name was Dulsinea.  She was one of the most beautiful women I have ever known."  As she said this, she trailed her hand down the powerfully muscled neck and traced the soft, rippling lines on the flanks.  Sarah thought she was crazy when the Unicorn twitched again, pulling ever-so-slightly away from the woman's touch, but she now knew she wasn't imagining it. 

"Alas, her heart was broken by a young, reckless, careless lover, and she was so grieved that she became a vengeful demon in the shape of a black Unicorn.  Jareth, ah, managed to release her from her fearful state, and at dawn the next morning, this fountain was here.  Even before The Evolution, with that horrid bog all about, this particular garden never did quite become tainted."  She laughed her chilling, mocking laugh and slapped the horse's rump, and this time Sarah couldn't deny that the horse actually jumped.  "Yes.  I'm afraid no one really knows how it got here."  She raised a delicate but cynical eyebrow. 

"Anyways, back to what I was saying.  You really should keep better company.  I mean, come on, Sarah."

"Sarah…!  Sarah?"  The woman's voice was overlapped by and then faded into another, more familiar tone.

She turned to find Jareth jogging towards her, a brilliant smile on his face.  Sarah spun back around quickly, but the terrible apparition that seemed to be haunting her was gone.  She did not turn to face Jareth as he jogged up, not forgetting that morning.  Besides, she did not want to look in his eyes because she might see what she was feeling reflected within their clear depths.  Instead, she turned away, only half-pretending hurt.

"There you are!  I've been looking all over for you!  Oh, come, come now, don't let's be this way towards one another."  He quickly slid around in front of her and bent down, a most innocent and at the same time impish look in his eyes.  "I'll admit it:  I acted rashly.  I was a hopeless, hormone-driven male who happened to wake up in a room with a beautiful, naked woman…" 

Sarah saw a boyish pout and wondered whatever had happened to the cold, haughty Goblin King that she knew.  He at least would've been easy to deal with; not this mischievous little boy with his beautiful man's body and temptingly trembling bottom lip.  He got down on one knee before her and extended a hand.  "Pax?"

She couldn't help but smile and be at ease with him, despite the incident earlier that morning.  After a few minutes of his puppy-like eyes staring sweetly up at her, her resolve broke and she gave in.  "Oh, alright.  Fine then.  Pax." 

She placed her hand in his and he raised it to his lips.  Sarah couldn't help but compare the experience to Teriel's earlier seductive kiss, and found them both quite different.  Ter had made quite certain that she knew what he was thinking, and his every movement and touch had been made to stimulate her female sensitivities. Jareth's touch did that without his conscious effort.  Sarah began to contemplate something that had terrified her since that fateful moment when she had first met the Goblin King on the hill over-looking the Labyrinth – an already half-realized notion that she was in love with him.  The hatred that she had felt all that time had just been her mind's desperate attempt to deny that fact.  But then again, she also felt something for Teriel.  Whether it was lust, love or just a deep affection, only time would tell. 

She sighed inwardly and wondered how she had gotten into this state.  Outwardly, she smiled and hoped her inner turmoil did not show through. 

"Thank you Sarah."

She didn't say anything, but began to walk back towards the castle, not letting go of his hand.  Somewhere deep down inside, where she had never dared to venture, a dark, mocking laughter echoed.

There it is finally!  Ack!  There's just been so much going on!  Well, I guess I'll go ahead and start on the next chapter.


	3. Chapter 2: Papercut

Disclaimer:  See Chapter 1.

AN:  Well, this is chapter Two!  Only about seven or eight more to go before I'm back where I was!  Here goes!  Oh, and I want everyone to review at the end of this chapter and critique Jareth's little breakfast greeting!  I don't know if it's the actual event itself or the reaction, but something just doesn't feel right about it to me!  Then again, maybe I'm just going crazy!

**_CHAPTER 2:_**   Papercut

Why does it feel like night today?

Something in here's not right today

Why am I so uptight today?

Paranoia's all I got left

I don't know what stressed me first

Or how the pressure was fed

But I know just what it feels like

To have a voice in the back of my head

It's like a face that I hold inside

A face that wakes when I close my eyes

A face that watches every time I lie

A face that laughs every time I fall

[And watches everything]

So I know that when it's time to sink or swim

The face inside is hearing me

Right underneath my skin

It's like I'm paranoid – lookin' over my back

It's like a whirlwind inside of my head

It's like I can't stop what I'm hearing within

It's like the face inside is right beneath my skin

I know I've got a face in me

That points out all the mistakes in me

You've got a face on the inside too

You're paranoia's probably worse

I don't know what set me off

But I know what I can't stand

Everybody acts like the fact of the matter is

I can't add up to what you can

But everybody has a face that they hold inside

A face that awaits when they close their eyes

A face that watches every time they lie

A face that laughs every time they fall

[And watches everything]

So I know that when it's time to sink or swim

The face inside is hearing you too

Right inside your skin

Linkin Park      Papercut

Sarah went to bed that night, and dreamed her strange dreams again, only this time, she was more conscious of what was going on.  The two arguing entities from her first visit were there, as well as the hard-tempered woman that had been appearing to her.  In her mocking way, the woman introduced the two new beings as Rhille – the strong, powerful voice – and Irilana – the serpent-like tone, names that she had mentioned before.  Neither of the two appeared before her, but their voices echoed in her mind.  It was peculiar; the way they seemed almost to pity her and feel sorrow for her constantly but never gave her a reason why.  She did learn that they were sisters, of a sort, but they were reluctant to talk about much, and when Sarah woke, she had few answers and even more questions.  As she dressed in the same outfit she had worn the previous day, Sarah almost wished that the elfin woman would appear before her.  Just as she was pulling on her pants, a knock sounded at her door and before she could reply, someone entered. 

"Good morning, Miss Sarah."  A being said cheerfully, pulling thick, emerald drapes back from French-Paned windows and letting in the brilliant sunlight.  She smiled out at the world and set a thick emerald bundle at the bottom of the bed, turning to Sarah with a startled expression.  "Oh, milady, you mustn't do that!  You've got to be dressed and ready for breakfast in just a few minutes!"

Sarah, who was tripping over the pants leg she couldn't manage to get her foot into only managed to reply "Huh?"

"Jareth, uh – ah – I mean His Highness expects you at breakfast any moment, Milady!  You must get dressed, and Lady Raven's clothes most certainly don't fit you!  Now, see here, I have a nice dress all ready for you – his Highness had it made for you last night just for this special purpose – and if you'd only allow me to help you, I'll have you fixed up nice in no time."  She gave a bold smile and Sarah blushed.  Undressing in gym had nothing on this, but somehow she managed it. 

Then she experienced a part of history that she had never wanted to become familiar with – six layers of clothing under the actual dress that, in itself, weighed a ton!  She liked the result, she had to admit, as she admired herself in the mirror, but she missed a decent pair of jeans and a t-shirt terribly.  It was almost painful the way the corset squeezed her already-trim stomach.  The gobliness gasped in true astonishment. 

"My Lady!"  She exclaimed in amazement.  "You look positively stunning!  You need something to go with that dress!"  She disappeared through a tiny door in the wall that Sarah had not noticed before.  Sarah could get the chance to rebuke the goblinette about entitling her Milady, but she resolved to do it when the girl returned.  For the few moments in which the goblin was gone, Sarah stood and admired herself in the mirror, thinking on what the goblin had said.

It was true.  Even in Sarah's own eyes, she looked stunning, and that scared her.  On Earth, she had been an average beauty at most, with nothing more than a trim, healthy body to offer.  Here, in the Underground, no physical change had taken place, but she glowed with a new something that made her look positively radiant.  A noise issued behind her and she found the goblin had returned.  She smiled at the creature.  

"Now, don't let's say anything, but I took the liberty of relieving the Countess of Rel of this little trinket.  I didn't steal it," She assured Sarah quickly, "She won't miss it anyway with all those useless baubles of hers.  And besides, I think it would look much better on you, Milady." 

Sarah took her opportunity to correct the goblin's mistake.  "Look.  I think everything is lovely and I appreciate everything you've done for me, but I have to tell you, I'm not a 'Lady' in any sense of the word.  I'm just a lowly human whom Jareth happened to know from a long time ago."

A look of horror crossed the girl's face, and she started to whimper.  "No, Milady, don't say such things!  Someone might overhear and get us all in a massive heap of trouble.  You must not tell anyone of your origins, or you, and all involved with you will be put to death!"

"Oh!  Whatever was wrong with what I said?"

The girl nibbled her lower lip before replying.  "Well, Milady, by royal decree, it's illegal to harbor adult humans in the Underground for more than twenty-four human hours, on the pain of death.  And, of course, with Jareth being the High King's son and all, the punishment will be infinitely worse if either of you are discovered.  His Highness risks all to keep you here, and it is against the wishes of all of his advisors that he does this.  Thankfully even with all of the rumors flying about in court about you, no one seems to have noticed that you are… what you are."  The girl smiled.

"His Majesty is really taken with you, I must say."  She reached up to fasten the necklace she had liberated from the countess around Sarah's neck, talking as she did so.  "As a matter of fact, there is a pool in the servant's quarters about which of the two will win your heart."  She leaned around and winked at Sarah.  "To tell you the truth, I've put my money on His Majesty, though most of the odds are going against me."

Sarah smiled and replied, "You never know." 

The servant laughed inwardly and wondered where all the money would go if Sarah said she was in love with both, and worse yet, what it would do to the two friends competing for her affection.

"All done!"  The goblin exclaimed, and moved around her, making little clucks of approval as she went.  It was a thin gold and emerald necklace, flat, with alternating panels of gold and emerald.  "Perfect!"

Sarah smiled.  "Well, I wouldn't say that, but it does look rather nice thanks to your expertise."

"Now just a touch of make-up and you should be fit enough to be High Queen one day." 

Sarah raised an eyebrow at that remark but soon had to put it down to accept the translucent color that the goblin added to her face. 

"Now, we must hurry, Milady, if you are to make it in any kind of time!" 

The servant ran for all she was worth, and Sarah did her best to keep up with her in soft-soled slippers and a dress that was larger and weighed more than Sarah.  It wasn't easy but they made it in time, and Sarah made the best entrance that she possibly could have made. 

She stepped uneasily into the room, her face schooled to a perfect calm.  She pretended to be unaware that every eye had settled on her, but soon forgot everything when she noticed that the room wasn't a room at all.  It was a great oval platform, made entirely of a single slab of marble, with just a small back wall.  The rest of the room opened up on the most beautiful view Sarah had ever seen.  Gardens and forests stretched as far as the eye could see out to a beautiful, clear, blue water that beat on a picturesque white sand beach on the left.  To the right, tall, stately, snow-topped mountains imposed their ancient figures on the world.  Straight ahead, nothing but farmland filled with graceful beasts that resembled cows with a more refined, delicate air. 

The next thing she knew, Sarah found herself leaning over the edge, straining for a better view, but she felt a hand reach out from behind her and claim her before gravity could take its toll and pull her over the edge.  The silence struck Sarah as she turned to find everyone in the room staring covertly at her.  Ter's hand remained on her shoulder, and caressing her neck gently, he led her over to a chair.  As she started to sit, he applied the slightest upward pressure, still smiling at the silent room. 

"Everyone, I would like to introduce Lady Sarah."  There was still that enraptured silence from before, which was only broken when Raven laughed, and approached her, a jovial look on her face.  "I see Jareth wouldn't let you get away with wearing anything but the finest for long, my dear Sarah.  Well, fret not!  I have more sway than he does in the clothing department, whether he will admit it or not, and I'll make sure you don't have to suffer long."  She noticed the necklace roped around Sarah's neck and turned to Ter with a hateful glower. 

He had noticed it too and merely shrugged innocently.  Then he realized that his sister was subtly leading Sarah away from him and hurried to catch up.  She had quite given him a beating yesterday after that little scene in the garden.  Raven had, unfortunately, seen the whole thing, and not approved.  Then she told him of Jareth's plans to wed the human.  When Ter would not concede to leave the girl be, Raven had refused to speak to him, and had maintained her silence the whole morning – longer than they had gone without some sort of contact in all of their lives. 

Sarah, after being pulled from Ter's grasp, turned to studying the people in the room.  It was a small group indeed:  she, Ter, and Raven were the only ones she knew.  The rest of them consisted of a huge, burly man with flame red hair and beard and a loud rumbling voice.  He was laughingly teasing a spiteful youth with a black scowl on his face.  The boy, who was a pale gold all over – down to his amber eyes and corn-silk hair – had a twin with the exact same features altered to meet the demands of a woman's body.  The last person in the room was female, but wasn't associating with anyone else and instead sat haughtily in a chair as far as possible from the society of these obvious friends.  She was beautiful, no doubt, but cold and Sarah immediately drew her gaze away from the woman. 

Raven led her to the closest group of socializing people, which happened to include the bear-looking man.  He was introduced as Arne, and as she extended a hand in greetings, he swept her up in a big, dizzying hug and squeezed the air out of her.  "It's a pleasure to meet you, lass!"  Sarah noticed a thick brogue, and she had to smile.  How had a Scottish man made it to the Underground?  He then set her down, winking at her, and nudged her with his huge elbow, almost bowling her over.  "I hear that you're the one that got the best of Jareth!  Well, congratulations!  He needed to be humbled a little!" 

Sarah couldn't help but liking this man, for who couldn't like someone so decidedly friendly? 

Raven turned to the still-sullen boy.  Sarah noticed that he was scowling at Ter.  She looked askance at Raven, but the woman turned to Arne with a helpless look. 

He grinned.  "Oh, laddie here is angry at Ter over a woman…"  He nudged the boy again, and the boy turned his dark look on Arne. 

"When I want someone to know my business, Arne, I'll tell them myself."  He turned and kissed Sarah's hand with a desultory air, only slightly relaxing his hateful look.  "Ind, ma'am.  It's a pleasure." 

She looked confusedly at him, a little taken aback.  Sarah had realized that Ter was an incredibly handsome Fae, and had guessed that many women had tried their luck with him, but she had had no idea that what that terribly disagreeable woman had said about him might be true.  That he would squabble with this youth over any woman was something that shocked her even more.  She resolved to be more reserved with her feelings towards Ter, because she did not want her heart broken, and she didn't want to return home, either.  However, she couldn't live with either herself or Ter if something happened between them only to be destroyed by another woman.  Besides, imagine what Jareth would think…

After a few more minutes of light, inconsequential conversation, Sarah was led over to where Ter chatted up the young blonde girl.  Sarah wondered if this was the thing they were fighting over, and if maybe the two pale children weren't twins.

Ter grew quiet as they approached, but then laughed his infectious laugh and held out his hand to Sarah, which she took.  "Arie, I would like you to meet Sarah."  He grinned at her from underneath his thatch of unruly black curls.  One had flung itself away from its companions and hung irritatingly in his face.  He kept trying to brush it away but in vain. 

Sarah, remembering that this might be another of Ter many love interests, wrenched her hand away from his to offer it to Arie, and the girl daintily took it with a smile.  She was quiet in every sense of the word, and bashful to boot.  Sarah couldn't help thinking to herself that Teriel was wasting himself on such a cool, timid little thing.  He needs a woman with fire and spirit and passion, she thought.  And who, echoed a mocking voice inside her that Sarah was beginning to dread, could you possibly be thinking that he needs?  Yourself?  Ha!

Sarah blocked her out and smiled her most dazzling smile at the young girl, who was sixteen at most.  Robbing the cradle, are you Ter?  She thought, but yet again, that sarcastic, derisive person answered her thoughts.  Very, **_very_** jealous, are we Sarah?  I mean, you're what?  Two years older than her?  In my opinion, you're both too young for him…  He is, after all, several millennia old.  That far outdoes either of you…  Then again, we all know my view on the subject now, don't we?

Sarah pushed the thoughts out of her mind and focused on Arie, who at the moment was telling Sarah how much she admired her courage and her beauty.  "Well," Sarah said, unable to keep a touch of venom out of her voice, "I guess it's obvious to everyone that my beauty and courage are far surpassed by **_yours_**, but I thank you for the immense compliment."  She shot Ter a look of contempt as she said this.

Ter, at that moment, was at a loss as to why she was so cold to him all of a sudden.  Then he thought about it, and he and his sister realized Sarah's mistake at the same time.  Raven, however, beat him to the punch. 

"Oh, look!  Here's Jareth now!  I'm sure he'll want to admire you in your new dress, Sarah!  Let's leave Ter and Arie to their discussion and go see him!"  She practically drug Sarah away with her, and Ter watched them go, quietly cursing. 

"What was that all about, Teriel?"  Arie asked, a little stunned at Sarah's anything if not outright hostile greeting. 

"Don't worry about it dear.  It was a misrepresentation which I intend to fix as soon as possible," he growled, "So don't let it trouble your pretty head.  It's not you she's mad at." 

As he stalked away, Arie rolled her amber eyes and glanced at Ind, who was stalking towards her.  Would she never be rid of hopeless, lovesick men and their desperate inadequacies?  Raven would never have Ind, even if Ter did give his consent, which would never happen, so why did he insist on being so ugly about it?  Arie had resigned her love of Jareth to an inaccessible place in her heart long ago when she realized that Jareth would never see her as anything more than a little sister.  She was determined to teach Ind to do the same. 

She watched Jareth's reaction to Sarah very closely as he entered.  Just like she had expected, and secretly dreaded, he stopped dead in his tracks, and so lost was he that his normally hard mask of composure was broken and he stared open-mouthed and awed.  Arie couldn't help but feel a little pang of jealousy towards this woman – she who commanded not only the exaltation of Ter, which every woman in probably the whole Underground had tried to attain to no success, but also had the affection of the Goblin King.  It was this victory that Arie coveted most, for the man she loved, whose cold refusal of love and all of its trials and tribulations had earned him enmity from many bordering provinces since that dreadful incident with Dulsinea was enamored with her.  Arie wished that she could possess that spark – that special something that made men fall at Sarah's feet – but knew that that was not her place, and instead comforted Ind as best she could while fighting off her own sadness.

Raven, also, was astounded at Jareth's reaction.  Ever since they had been children playing at her father's castle, Jareth had guarded his emotions – especially his tender, vulnerable ones – well.  One look at Sarah, her eyes flashing a verdant jungle fire, and the entire smooth, marble exterior melted away like ice during a heat wave.  His total and absolute devotion to that woman was laid bare for the whole world to see, and Raven was positive that it was noticed.  That is, by everyone except for Sarah, who was staring at her feet and concentrating on not slipping on the stairs or her dress.  Raven was sad that the girl didn't see how much Jareth loved her, what he was willing to put on the line for her. 

The elfin woman didn't exactly approve of the idea of Jareth marrying a human, that was for sure, but she had experienced such complete love before, and lost it as she hoped Jareth never would.  Raven wondered how many nights the Goblin King had laid awake, thinking about this woman, and Raven could almost feel the pull that others obviously felt.  It was like a magical calling to like Sarah and Raven truly wanted to obey it, but she guarded her emotions better than anyone did because pain was an all-too-real thing for her.

Raven stopped on the broad, flat step below where Jareth stood, still unable to collect himself, and Sarah stopped with her, but a powerful emotion the likes of which Sarah had never felt before, flooded over her, and she found she was unable to look up.  It probably was for the best that she didn't, however, because her image of the haughty Goblin King would have been shattered forever at this tongue-tied boy with his mouth working soundlessly and his heart in his eyes.  Conversation around the room stopped, and Sarah was aware that every person was watching this little drama unfold – some, a little jealously, others with a happy smile, and one never looked up, only stared forward with a proud countenance – and still she couldn't move her eyes.  Her heart kept beating faster and louder, and she thought for a minute that everyone in the room had silenced because of the thunderous booming, but that was ridiculous, and she soon dismissed the idea. 

Jareth still hadn't said anything and the tension began to build, but before it could impress itself on everyone and ruin the light-hearted morning, something happened.  The Goblin King slowly reached out a hand – as though afraid he might scare her into running from him if he made any sudden moves – and parted the silky cascades of ebony hair that hid Sarah's face.  Still moving as though afraid of shattering her, he placed three fingers underneath her chin and slowly lifted her face towards his.  Still, she averted her eyes and unconsciously licked her lips, unaware of the effect it had on him.  With his fingers still resting underneath her chin, he led her up to the step he was on, unable to take his eyes off her face.  He lost all sense of anyone else in the room – all he knew was Sarah, and that moment. 

Without realizing he was doing it, he whispered "Sarah…"

She finally looked up, but before she could turn her eyes elsewhere, they were focused on his and she was lost.  All she knew was his touch on her suddenly warm skin, and his changeling eyes staring into hers with all the earnestness she had ever hoped to see in anyone's eyes.  Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she felt his fingers guiding her face towards his, and she was powerless to resist – locked into eyes so deep and full of emotion you could drown in them.  That first touch of his firm lips against hers was electrifying – just a brush that sent every butterfly that had been fluttering around her stomach up to buffet her heart.  He drew back and looked into her eyes, almost as if asking permission.  Too full of emotion to speak, she simply closed the gap between them, touching her lips to his again.  If this is the way it's going to feel every time, Sarah thought, then I don't ever want to stop.  Then she lost the capacity for thought as he began to deepen the kiss, and she made no move to resist him. 

"Oh, ho, ho, ho, ho!"  She heard Arne exclaim, and pulled back self-consciously, blushing furiously.  Jareth only grinned down at her, making her color even more feverishly. 

"Good morning to you too," He said, still smiling. 

The silence stretched almost paper thin, and then broke out into a lively, determined burst of conversation.  Sarah was able to unglue her feet from the floor, and everyone proceeded to the table with thoughts only for the delectable aromas lifting up from the freshly-laid trays.  Lids were removed and wonderful-smelling breads and pastries and fruits were laid out for their dining pleasure.  Sarah sat gingerly in the chair that Ter pulled out for her, conscious of her heartbeat and the thousands of yards of fabric constricting her movement.

Instantly she was accosted by the delicious sights and scents that came at her from all sides, and wasn't aware until it was too late that she was seated between Jareth and Ter.  The silent woman made no move to join them, but only continued to look on.  Sarah also noticed that no one else paid heed to her, and decided to ask Raven about her later.  She ate as daintily as possible, remembering that every bite was a potential extra pound and also what her real mother had taught her about high-class eating, and was most mortified when she nearly spilled strawberry tart all over her dress.  Thankfully, no one had noticed that.

Jareth and Ter decidedly ignored each other the whole meal, and Ter ignored Ind's attempts at engagement, which left only Sarah for Ter to converse with.  This, however, inflamed Jareth to no end, and so the rest of the table had to suffer for the whole morning as the two men competed for her attention.  Of course, she had to suffer too, because through it all that nagging woman kept making hateful, degrading comments to Ter and equally pouring out honeyed observations of Jareth's good points, both physical and mental.  Of course, this made Sarah blush furiously when she had no call to. 

When it looked like Ter and Jareth were ready to come to blows over her, Raven stepped in and begged Sarah to join her for a ride through the surrounding country.  Sarah accepted instantly, and before it was over, no one ended up staying behind. 

While the ladies went to get dressed, Jareth rescheduled all of his appointments for a later time and Arne, Ter and Ind went to saddle the horses.  Domesticated mounts were not to be had in the Underground.  For some reason their young would not kindle – many supposed it was the magic in the air – and therefore all of Jareth's stables were stocked with fine young animals bought off an enterprising Fae who had taken up residence Aboveground just for such purposes as selling them to rich immortals. 

When everyone reconvened at the front gates at a later time – the Countess's necklace having been discreetly returned without incident – there were several horses awaiting them including an Arabian, a Thoroughbred, an Andalusian, a Tennessee Walker, two quarter horses and one huge Cleveland Bay all standing munching grass patiently.  Sarah was delighted, for wasn't it she who had taken riding lessons since she was six in the vain hopes of one day owning a horse?  And wasn't it she who stole the idea of Ellen Tree from the book Little Women?  That branch was still saddled in their backyard as far as Sarah knew.

Raven had informed her earlier that she would have a horse brought for her, but it would not be hers.  At Sarah's query, Raven replied that all horses in the Underground were bred specifically to their master's temperament.  Sarah's would be lacking in the sensitive responsiveness of the other horses, but still a fine animal.  She patiently waited until everyone else selected his or her personalized mount, and found her own not to be lacking. 

Jareth chose the beautiful Arabian, as unpredictable and full of spirit as his master, and as fiery red as the setting sun.  That long tail flickered behind it like a banner over a hard-won battlefield, spotless white socks flashing as it reared.  Ter chose the Andalusian, as completely black and mysterious as its master.  It was a small horse, trim, sleek and built for speed, and it gnashed its teeth in challenge at Jareth's stallion, which was also small, as desert horses tended to be.  The two pale yellow quarter horses went to Ind and Arie, as Sarah expected because they were by far the most docile of the group.  Raven picked the Tennessee Walker, a larger, more subdued, chestnut version of Jareth and Teriel's stallions.  The Cleveland Bay looked like the only one suitable to hold Arne, so Sarah deftly mounted the dark grey Thoroughbred, feeling its thick muscles ripple beneath her knees.  It sidestepped anxiously and tossed its head at her touch, but was not arrogant and challenging like Ter and Jareth's stallions. 

There was a burning excitement in Sarah's chest and all she wanted to do was race across the fields, feeling the thunder of her horse's hooves beneath her.  "Are we ready?"  She asked breathlessly, casting a quick glance at everyone else. 

A collective nod came from the group and before Sarah could stop herself, she kicked her stallion into a high gallop, astonishing everyone as a primal shout of joy tore from her chest.  One and all glanced blankly at each other before following her, Jareth and Ter chasing desperately to catch up while the rest of the group set off at a slower pace, Arie and Raven exchanging knowing looks over Ind's head.  The two male Fae quickly overtook Sarah as she raced along as fast as she could – unaware of anything but the complete bond between her and the horse. 

With Ter on her right and Jareth on her left, she ran as far as she could, racing down broad, flat, dusty country roads that slowly deteriorated into small, winding trails.  Tall trees began to spring up around her in ones and twos and soon in whole stands until she was surrounded on both sides by a dense forest of ancient vegetation.  The open track quickly became narrower until only a small animal trail remained of it.  There was no room for two to ride abreast, and the perilous footing forced her to slow her pace until it was a lazy canter. 

The thickening trees began to blot out the sun and a light chill entered the air.  Sarah shivered and looked around her, but there was no sign of her companions.  She tried to rein in her horse and wait for them, but he ignored her command and picked up the pace, making it impossible for her to dismount safely.  An icy tendril of fear wrapped itself around her heart and a sense of wrongness overcame her.  Something was incredibly amiss, and the Thoroughbred sensed it.

"Nothing's wrong, Sarah."  A voice whispered in her ear, and Sarah barely managed to keep in her saddle.  She was growing to hate the woman who suddenly appeared riding behind her.  "I just thought you'd like some company." 

"I wouldn't mind any company but yours," Sarah snarled, unable to contain her rage at this being intruding on her innermost thoughts, "so please leave my friends and me be."

The woman's hand snaked into Sarah's hair and wrapped fingers into it like the talons of an eagle latching onto its prey.  Wrenching back painfully, the woman looked deep into Sarah's eyes and snarled a reply.  "No matter whose company you might desire, Sarah.  You are stuck with me for a long, long time.  And I advise you, my dear, to be kinder to me, or you might regret it."

Enraged at being held captive and being unable to control her horse, which was still running at a precarious pace through the woods, Sarah tried to wrest her head from the woman's grasp to no avail and spat back a reply.  "I'll never be more kind to you than you deserve!"  She tried more desperately to struggle out of the woman's grasp and regain control of her horse, reaching behind her and grasping whatever she could get hold of, but still without result.  The woman, whose name Sarah still didn't know, bashed her in the back of the head with an unknown object, and Sarah saw stars dance before her eyes and her vision dimmed.

Sarah immediately went limp.  She knew when she'd been defeated.  There was no escaping this creature who was neither human nor quite beast.  "What do you want of me?"  She asked, gritting her teeth against the pain and the sick feeling of blood running down the back of her head and matting into her hair. 

"What do you think I want, Sarah?  I want to watch you cower in some small, dark corner of your mind while I take control.  I want to claim Jareth as you never will.  I want to watch this world crumble beneath us both as it has been destined to do.  And I cannot possibly do that without Jareth's precious little human, now can I?" 

Sarah had no reply to that.  She had known somehow that there was something dark inside her, even when she was back Aboveground, but she had thought that to be depression.  Now a cold sensation started to crawl up Sarah's spine.  What had she unleashed?

Having invaded Sarah's thoughts as easily as she always had, the Woman hissed an answer, "I am one of the nine, Sarah.  The most powerful of us all, they only await my return to smote this world, to destroy it.  But as there must always be a balance, as there can be no evil without good, I had to find a host that would accept me.  Now all I am doing is lying in wait for the time when all nine of us will rise up and ride the winds of destruction again.  For now, you can play your little games, but don't forget that I am always watching…"

Suddenly, Sarah' frightened mount burst through the vegetation onto a stretch of pristine white sand and warm sunlight.  With the creature gone again, Sarah felt used in a way that she couldn't even describe to herself, and reined in her panting horse to look for her companions.

An indeterminate amount of time passed between Sarah's arriving at the beach and her friends catching up to her.  It may have been a minute or it may have been an hour, but she knew that they were afraid for her the moment she saw their eyes.

Jareth's red Arabian, its white socks spattered with mud and decaying plant material, raced up and the Goblin King jumped from the saddle, leaving the horse to slow down at its own pace.  He grabbed Sarah, who felt like she was in a trance, and pulled her from her mount.  "Sarah, Sarah, are you okay?  What happened?  One minute you were riding along with us and the next…  I couldn't find where you'd gone!  I was so worried!"  He looked deep into her eyes, but they were glazed and unfocused.

Ter rode up at that instant and leaped from his horse, reaching for her as Jareth had done.

Sarah couldn't bring herself to concentrate on anything, and somehow stuttered out a mechanical response:  "I – I don't know…  I guess the horse got spooked."

Ter who had been staring at her, panting, reached out and touched the back of her head.  She winced.  "Sarah.  You're bleeding.  Are you sure you're alright?"

She reached up absently and touched the back of her head where she'd been hit.  She brought her hand back to look at it and bright red blood coated her fingertips.  "I don't know," she replied, slowly coming back to herself, "I must've gotten hit in the head when the horse took off."  She looked up at them with a lost and innocent look.

Jareth and Ter's hearts melted at the same moment, and they both probably would've reached to kiss her had the others not crashed through the brush at the same moment.  Raven's usually neat black hair was messy, her violet eyes emitting sparks, and her mouth spitting such foul curses that any sailors within hearing would have blushed.  She had leaves and twigs caught in her hair and clothing, and her sword was out, obviously having been used to hack at the weeds. 

"How in the name of all the Gods did you manage to get through there?  Those blasted vines nearly choked me!"  She rode up, with a slightly scared Ind and Arie at her heels.  "What's wrong?  Sarah, why are you bleeding?"

Sarah blinked and shook herself.  "Nothing, Raven.  My horse spooked and my head hit a branch.  I'm fine, just a little shaken up."  She looked around at the group before continuing, "Say, where's Arne?" 

"Here!"  The great man shouted, his horse lumbering towards them.  "And I brought lunch!"  Indeed, he had huge saddle bags that emitted a wondrously delicious aroma, and the tell-tale click of dishware.

As everyone else rushed off to help with the food, Sarah blinked.  She wondered what had come over her to make her lie to Jareth and Ter.  She shrugged and went to round up the horses, which had wandered off.  She found her Thoroughbred cheerfully munching the fruit that had fallen from a tree to the south of the beach.  He cooperated with her, and she led him back to where Arne and Jareth had set up a small picnic area, complete with a small dining table, floating chandeliers and servants.  She looked askance at Raven, who only shook her head in a defeated way and indicated that it was Jareth and Ter's doing.  Indeed, they each seemed to be trying to outdo the other with their magical extravagance. 

Sarah tied the grey up slightly downwind of the others and went to look for Jareth and Ter's stallions, which had disappeared.  A quick search of the beach in the direction they had run turned up nothing.  She heard a soft whicker, and turned to see the bright red rump of Jareth's stallion vanish into the foliage.  She noticed that she was a good distance away from her companions, and was hesitating to enter the dark woods when the beast whinnied softly again, and she followed it. 

 The creature led her further into the woods, always staying just at the edge of her vision.  Every time she sped up to catch it, it would increase its speed as well, and every time she would be caught on a branch or stuck in brambles the horse would stop and wait patiently for her to extricate herself.  It led Sarah far back into the woods, where a meadow sprawled lazily before her, dotted with flowers. 

The horse trotted to the middle of the field where it settled down next to Ter's stallion, and both of them lazed about, unconscious of the world around them.  She slowly approached, afraid to spook them, until she was inches away from the beautiful red creature.  Standing there, she admired its glistening red coat and its soft, dark eyes.  Ter's horse had a curious air about him, and flicked his ears at her several times, stretching his neck so he could get closer to her.  Both of them radiated majesty and power, just like their masters.

She slowly extended her arm towards the red horse, her fingers trembling with desire to touch it and a little trepidation.  She leaned closer, and closer still, unaware of anything but the horse.  And she was right – the velvety softness of its nose was indescribable, and it complacently let her caress it with the tips of her fingers. 

"His name is Aikanaro.  It's Elvish.  It means 'hell fire'." 

Sarah jumped at the voice and spun around, barely suppressing a scream.  Jareth stood at the edge of the meadow, an abashed smile on his face.

"I saw you going off into the woods and I didn't know where you were going.  I thought I'd follow you just to make sure you were safe."

Sarah's heart was still pounding in her chest, and she stuttered out, "I-I was rounding up the horses.  You just let them wander off and I didn't think you'd wanna search for them later."

Jareth shook his head and laughed, walking up to where she was standing.  "No, that should have been the least of your worries, Sarah.  These horses know to come when called."  He turned to Aikanaro and patted his neck.  "Isn't that right, old boy?"  Sarah watched as Jareth continued to lovingly rub the stallion, and she swore its eyes narrowed in almost cat-like pleasure.

Calmer now, she asked, "And what's his name?"  She indicated the black horse staring at them attentively. 

"Him?  He was named Osse, after the Elvish God of Storms.  Doesn't he just look it, too?"

Sarah admired the stallions again, thinking that their names fit them almost perfectly.  Jareth settled down on the grass between the two horses, sharing his attentions between the two.  Sarah joined him after a few seconds, and began to run her fingers lightly over the rippling muscles of both horses. 

"Ind's horse," he continued, "Is Herenya Sul, meaning 'lucky wind'.  Arie's is Elle Aina Arddun, which translates roughly into 'little holy beauty'.  Arne's Clydesdale is Coia Serke, which means 'life blood'.  He never would explain to us why that name fit his horse so well, but the beast didn't seem to mind it too much.  Raven's, the dear old brute is Orome, after the Elvish God of Battle."

Sarah sighed as she continued to stroke Osse behind the ears, and said, "The Elves are such beautiful people:  they have a beautiful language, beautiful lands, beautiful minds and beautiful souls.  It's a wonder they're not Gods."

Jareth was preparing to reply angrily when he remembered that Sarah was a mortal, and didn't know the history of the underground.  "Sarah, what are you saying?  Do you know nothing of the Underground?"

Sarah shook her head.  "Only what I saw when I was last here, Jareth, and that wasn't too informative.  Why do you ask?"

"Sarah, the Elves are not beautiful.  Yes, they had beautiful bodies, wondrous gardens and palaces beyond all imagining, and some of the finest and most breathtaking songs, jewelry, and clothing, but somewhere deep down inside them, there was a disease.  It corrupted their minds and rotted their souls.  They were the rulers of the Underground for a long time, Sarah.  By the time the people of this world woke up to what was happening around them, it was too late.  The Elves, in their quest for power and total domination had enslaved those they had once ruled.  Fey and Goblin and Ghoul and Dragon toiled side by side in the mud and the muck, with no hope for any future but the hell they were living in. 

"It became too much for us all, and the peoples revolted.  But of all the races that did fight, the Fey battled hardest.  We are distant cousins of the Elves, Sarah, and as their relatives, we felt their crimes all too deeply.  When the days were at their darkest and it seemed that our Masters would crush us for good and for all, a Great Alliance was formed.  The Fey, the Dragons, the Merpeople, the Pixies and the Dwarves all joined together in an effort to fight the Elves.  It was a long war, and many died because of it.  When all was said and done, the Elves were driven back and penned between the Serke Mountain Ranges and Arrn Ocean.  It has been many, many years since they were exiled, and should any of them have survived they still live in the far reaches of the mountains."

"In the aftermath of the war, there was a cry from among the different peoples for a new type of government – one that would allow all races a voice in the law.  That's when the council was formed.  Each specific nation would have its own government, which would in turn answer to the council.  The council consists of two representatives from each kingdom, which, regardless of race or creed, speak for their kingdom as a whole, as well as fifteen speakers, each of which comes from the fifteen different races of the world, and speak for the wellbeing of their race, rather than their nation.  All of this is presided over by the High King, which is a direct descendant of Darron, a Fey hero of the Elvish War.  He was my great-grandfather, which puts me in line for the throne of the High King, when my father retires his seat.  And when I produce an heir, they will be put in charge of the Goblin Kingdom, as I was when I was a boy, and will follow me onto the High King's seat.  Thus the balance is maintained."

Sarah blinked.  She'd had no idea that there had ever been wars in the Underground.  She had always naively believed that all of the kingdoms had existed in peace and harmony as far back as the beginning of time.  Now she knew differently. 

"I'm sorry, Jareth, for saying what I said, then.  I didn't know what the Elves truly were, but now I do.  I have a question, though."

"Hmm?"  He answered absentmindedly as he stood up and brushed the grass from his breeches. 

"If the Elves are so hated, then why do you know Elvish?"

Jareth laughed and extended a hand to help Sarah up from the ground.  "All Fey know Elvish, Sarah, from the tiniest toddler to the oldest rambler.  It is ingrained in us, and comes as naturally as breathing.  We refrain from speaking it, for the most part, because it offends other races that are still very sensitive over the Elvish War."

Sarah had no reply to that, so she accepted his hand and pulled herself up.  It was warm and dry, and even after she stood up, it held onto hers.  She found she couldn't look up into his eyes, but stared at their intertwined fingers.  She felt like she had to say something.

"Jareth, I…"  She looked up at him and couldn't finish, for her mouth was instantly claimed by his.  Heat burned through her whole body, and she felt herself responding to his kiss.  Her arms snaked up and latched around his neck, and she vaguely felt his wrapping around her waist.  It was as if electricity was flowing from his mouth into her body, and she thrilled with it. 

Sarah's knees grew weak, and she silently thought, 'Traitors…' and she collapsed against the Goblin King's muscled chest.  Somewhere deep in the back of her mind, a cold voice cackled triumphantly, and Sarah stopped, pulling back. 

"What's wrong?"  Jareth asked, his heart pounding in his chest and his hands itching to touch her silky skin just once more.

"Nothing," Sarah replied breathlessly, "But don't you think we should be getting back?  I'm sure the others are worried about us."

"I suppose," he answered reluctantly, and followed her as she headed back towards the beach. 

Their companions had indeed been searching for them, and were relieved when both emerged unharmed from the woods.  Arne, who was the first of the companions they met, blinked once to see them together, then smiled a knowing smile and laughed.  Sarah couldn't help but blush, and immediately started talking, trying to explain why she and Jareth were alone in the woods together.  Her words spilled out of her mouth much too quickly for the calm image she was trying to create, however.

"I went off searching for the horses because I didn't think that anyone would want to search for them later and I found them in a field.  Jareth came up and told me their names and when I said that I thought Elves were beautiful creatures he explained about the Elvish War and how the government in the Underground works now.  And then he explained why all Fey know Elvish and I said we should be getting back and we left."  Even to her it sounded lame.

"It's okay, lassie.  I understand, but let's be getting back before the food gets cold, eh?  You wouldn't be wanting me to shrivel up now, would you?"

Sarah shook her head with a smile and took a deep, steadying breath.

When they arrived back at the beach, most of the extravagance had been removed, and only the food remained, spread out on the extravagant tablecloth that had covered the table previously.  Raven stood over everything, nodding.  "I took the time while you were away to send all of the excess back.  Now we have a nice picnic and no butlers.  She shot a look at Jareth and Sarah would have sworn she saw him blush.

"Now that we're all here," Raven said, "Let's eat."

They ate their light lunch, and most of their entertainment came from Jareth and Ter, who told funny stories of their time with the soldiers during the Long Night's War.  Stories of incompetent commanders, cowardly troops and horrid eating kept the others laughing, but all Sarah could do was pick at her food.  After everyone was finished, the food was magicked back into Arne's saddle bags, and as everyone prepared to leave, Osse and Aikanaro galloped up and stood, waiting patiently for their masters, who mounted them accordingly.  Sarah, who was about to mount her own stallion, turned to Jareth and said, "Jareth, you never told me the name of my horse."

Jareth opened his mouth to reply, but Ter beat him to it.  "His name used to be Rien A Aeglos, which is roughly translates into 'crown of snowthorns'.  However, when his mistress disappeared, it became N'Uma Esse, which means 'no name'.  I'm sure Dulsinea wouldn't've had it any other way."

Jareth hung his head, and refused to speak to anyone the rest of the ride back.  When they arrived at the castle, he dismounted and walked silently to his room, after which no one could bring him out. 

Sarah shook her head and went to her own chambers, where she found an entire wardrobe waiting for her, and a small goblin accompanying it.  Sarah hung her head.  "I supposed I have to go through this?"

The goblin girl nodded, and Sarah set to it, brooding over Jareth's sudden withdrawal, but happy with the cut and design of her new clothes.  As she directed the goblin on changes that needed to be made to the various garments, that familiar voice whispered, "You're settling in quite nicely, Sarah.  You could almost be queen the way you're ordering that goblin around.  Are you sure you won't reconsider being High Queen?"

Sarah bit her lip, determinedly ignoring the voice, and continued to direct the goblinette.

Good God, it's done!  That's kinda scary.  Oh well.  Now that I'm back into writing, the story should progress smoothly from here on out.  I can't wait to finish the next chapter.  Hope you enjoyed!


	4. Chapter 3: Sweet Surrender

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

AN Yes, immortalwizardpirateelf-fan, you're correct! The Elvish I have chosen to use is that of J.R.R. Tolkien, and for several reasons. First of all, J.R.R. Tolkien is a God, and should be revered as such. I would much rather use his idea of Elvish than make one up of my own because his is flawless. Now let me tell you that these translations are by NO means completely correct or accurate, but they are close enough to merit use. Secondly, I thought that people might recognize Tolkien's Elvish and be able to correct me if I made a mistake, etc. That and they'd be more familiar with it. So there are some of the reasons I chose to use someone else's language instead of making up my own. Should I ever decide to change this novel to suit my own characters and have it published, I will, of course, change it.

**_CHAPTER 3: _**Sweet Surrender

It doesn't mean much

It doesn't mean anything at all

The life I've left behind me

Is a cold room

I've crossed the last line from where I can't return

Where every step I took in faith

Betrayed me and led me from my home and

Sweet, sweet surrender

Is all that I have to give

You take me in

No questions asked

You strip away the ugliness that surrounds me

Are you an angel

Am I already gone

I only hope that I won't disappoint you

When I'm down here on my knees

Sweet, sweet surrender

Is all that I have to give

And I don't understand

By the touch of your hand

I would be the one to fall

I miss the little things

Oh, I miss everything

It doesn't mean much

It doesn't mean anything at all

The life I've left behind me

Is a cold room

Sarah McLachlan Sweet Surrender

Sarah, having finished giving directions to the goblinette about the changes that were to be made in her wardrobe, walked into her huge closet and looked around. Inside the closet were two gargantuan chests, which would be used to store clothes from previous fashions that Sarah wished to keep – the rest would be discarded – and above each of them were four racks which held her current wardrobe. The four racks on the right were reserved strictly for dresses and costumes for balls and other social events that required skirts. On the left, everyday clothes and riding outfits of every color, shade and design imaginable hung for her selection. Each was tailored to fit Sarah perfectly, and she wondered if she would even be able to wear all of them before the next fashion wave came in and they were destroyed completely to make way for the new fad.

In the end, she selected a deep green silk tunic that belted at her waist and flared down to mid-thigh with huge, billowy sleeves. The neckline ducked modestly to just at her breasts, and was bordered with silver runes. She chose a pair of form-fitting, khaki-colored breeches of a soft and smooth material she couldn't identify to go with it, and quickly slipped them on. She walked out of her closet and admired herself in the mirror of the new bureau that the goblins had brought in.

Looking down, she saw a message written in graceful, sloping handwriting. She picked up the heavy parchment and was delighted with a light, lilac scent. It read:

_Dear __Sarah__,_

_I am writing to invite you into the village for an afternoon of shopping with me. Jareth will not rest until you own the best of everything, and has sent word to his personal jeweler to show you his best items. Other than the natural, womanly desire to shop, I am sure that you have some questions to ask about your current situation, as well as questions about the Underground in general. I am also obliged to explain to you some of the laws and prejudices that make it absolutely necessary for you to keep your nature a secret from everyone but our small circle of friends. Meet me in my room when you have finished with the clothes I have sent for you to look at. Jareth was about to demand more, but I imposed and told him that you couldn't possibly wear everything you have now in the next two years. He reluctantly agreed, and so I've saved you for the moment, but don't think that he won't try to find some other way to lavish extravagance on you. My suggestion is to throw this note in the fire once you've read it, for fear of it being discovered. _

_Yours Eternally,_

_Raven_

Sarah finished with the letter and smiled before tossing it into the fire as instructed. A shopping trip would be wonderful and therapeutic, and she was looking forward to finally getting some of her questions answered. She smoothed her tunic once more before walking out.

She looked both ways, wary of meeting any of her morning's companions before strolling down the hallways toward the other woman's room. She knocked briefly as she entered, to find the diminutive female sitting patiently through the ministrations of a small goblin who was applying gentle tones of light purple to Raven's eyelids.

"Sit down Sarah; I'll only be a minute more." Sarah did as she was instructed, settling down on midnight blue sheets. She reached behind her and grasped a sunflower yellow throw pillow, which she clutched to her chest. She watched as the goblinette finished and Raven said, "That will be all, Resa."

The goblin bowed and left, and Raven turned to Sarah. "That's much more like it, isn't it?" She asked sympathetically, looking at Sarah's clothing.

"Yes, I have to say it is. Oh," Sarah reached behind her and grabbed a stack of neatly folded clothes, "I wanted to return your outfit from earlier. Thank you for lending it to me."

"It was nothing. Just lay them on the bed and Resa will get them when we leave." Raven eyed Sarah's neckline. "Since you have no jewelry of your own as yet, I think I can do something for you." She turned to the wall and traced a rune on it. A door appeared before her, and she went through, emerging seconds later with something glittering in her hands.

"There's one good thing that's come from Ter's little fling with the Countess of Rel – she leaves her jewelry in his room and never thinks of it again. Sort of a trophy for every time… Never mind." She didn't finish that thought, but instead came up to Sarah with two costly-looking trinkets in her hands. One was a necklace – two bands of platinum wound together, with oval shaped diamonds set between each joint. The other was a matching tiara, the kind that clipped into her hair and hung high on her forehead.

Sarah shook her head after Raven settled the diadem on her brow, loving the cool feel of the tear-shaped gemstone on her skin. "I feel just like a princess," she said laughingly.

Raven rolled her eyes and sighed. "If you feel like a princess in that, I'd hate to see what you would feel like in one of her more extravagant pieces. Or, worse yet, what you're going to feel like when the jeweler is through with you. Are you ready to go?"

Sarah nodded again, enjoying the sensation of the jewel bouncing, and followed Raven out of the room. As they strolled through the hallways and out into the sunny courtyards, they talked.

"Right now, Jareth and Ter are in a war council with Jareth's top advisors. Normally, I'd be there with them, but all they do is argue, and I just didn't feel like listening to it at the moment. Besides, my being a woman makes the old men angry that I'm allowed to even sit in." She laughed heartily over that. "Sometimes I whisper things to Jareth and Ter just to get a rise out of them."

"And who are Jareth's top advisors?" Sarah asked.

"Oh, I don't know. There are twenty of them, all told, and if they ever had names they've long since forgotten them, living as they do among the dusty tomes in the library. They never seem to sleep, but travel around the castle in a teeming clump much like a flock of migrating birds, smelling of dirt, old clothes and living death. It's a wonder they're alive at all. Jareth is nearly fed up with them, and I think he's about to dismiss them from service altogether. In my opinion, the only reason they remain yet bound to this world is their pledge to aid Jareth, and should he dismiss them they would merely disintegrate to dust."

Sarah cast her eyes down, "Oh. Well, why's he in a war council anyways? Who's attacking?"

Raven smiled at that. "Jareth, being the High King's son, is thought of among the other kingdoms as a spoiled brat with no idea what he's doing. Many believe that he's much too young to rule a kingdom on his own, and many others feel that he's a fool. And the fact that Jareth sheltered us when Teriel and I had that slight falling out with our father didn't help the public's opinion of him. Everyone else felt we should've been dutiful children and obediently followed Daddy's orders." Her sweet smile turned to a scowl, and she continued, "There are those who would dethrone Jareth, divide the Goblin Kingdom up between them, and take the spoils for themselves. The whole thing started out as a simple dispute over the repayment of a debt. No, wait, let me back up."

"The Goblin Kingdom lies on the eastern border of civilization. The beach we rode on today isn't the beach of an ocean, as you might believe, but the boundary of a huge sea, the Arauka Draug Sea, or the Swift Wolf Sea, named after the SwiftWolf, the first ship to navigate that body of water. That sea stretches along almost the entire western border, and is a major trade route for all the kingdoms who share its edges. Everything north of here, extending all the way to the border between the Goblin Kingdom and the Pixie Kingdom, is farmlands and villages. The Pixies are bordered on the north by the Serke Mountains, and farther than that lays either the palaces or the frozen corpses of the Elves. East of us is nothing but woodland that also ends at the Serke Mountains, which continue down from their northern wastelands all the way past the southern border. No axe has ever touched or fire burned that forest, though many have tried to destroy it. Most of the goblins believe it's a wood haunted by the vengeful souls of the long-departed Elves, and that to venture under its dark canopy is to invite death. To the south, a long stretch of empty, desolate grassland and a vast desert separates Jareth from the southern kingdoms."

Sarah nodded, picturing in her mind her beautiful view of the countryside from that morning, and figured that the breakfast room pointed north. They had reached the stables by then, and Raven paused in her explanation so their horses could be made ready and brought to them. Orome trotted up, followed by N'Uma Esse, and the women quickly set off in the direction of the town.

"A small province ruled by an enterprising individual lies directly to the south, within the desert." Raven continued, "He styles himself King Darius, though he is not a king. Instead, he is a short, rotund human who happened to perform a service to the High King in a time of crisis. As a gift for his services, the High King awarded Darius a bit of desert land and the right to stay in the Underground and do with it as he pleased. Darius took full advantage of this, and he built a small village around an oasis, which later became a metropolis. He dubbed his city New Rome, and it became a gathering place for criminals and shady characters, as well as a popular meeting ground for those rulers who want to discuss 'unofficial' business. It does more than well, and brings in a considerable amount of money to Darius's coffers."

"During the Long Night's War, which was less a war but more a campaign to put down a large band of miscreant vampires, Jareth was put in charge of an operation to infiltrate and destroy their main stronghold located at the northern edge of the desert. Jareth took his soldiers to the location, but someone had informed the vampires of his plans and they had set up an ambush. Jareth was badly outnumbered, and it looked like he was going to lose, when Darius arrived, leading several hundred pirate thugs brandishing liquid fire into the fray. It worked, and the vampires surrendered, though ever since his debt to the ugly little beast has hung over Jareth's head like a black cloud."

"Just recently, Darius has resurfaced from his den of sin to the south to demand that Jareth pay for the service rendered back then, if you will. Jareth was delighted with this idea, and would have willingly cut off his sword arm and presented it to the human with a red bow around the wrist, just to lift that weight. However, Darius demanded nothing so simple. He instead insisted that Jareth marry his youngest daughter – Ta'en, named after the Third – the Goddess of Song."

A strange look came over Sarah's face when she heard this, but the expression was fleeting and in an instant she turned to Raven with a mischievous countenance. "Tell me about her, Raven. I want to know everything so I can tease Jareth when I return."

The elfin woman sharply shook her head. "No, I'm afraid it wouldn't be wise to mention any of this to Jareth. His refusal of the marriage proposal started all of this nonsense, which is now threatening to become full-on war, but I'm getting ahead of myself again."

"Ta'en is beautiful, do not doubt it. She has long silken hair the ginger of a thousand sunsets, eyes the blush pink of fine wine, and the perfect, creamy complexion of milk. I have met few who could match her in their outward beauty. However, the moment she opens her full lips with their perfect teeth, the rest becomes obsolete. She is spoiled, loud and obnoxious, with the temperament of a maddened calf. She has an opinion of everything, yet she knows nothing herself. She is insolent and completely unworthy of the time and efforts of any but the lowest scum of society. Being brought up as a daughter of Darius, she has been exposed to more shady lowlifes than you or I combined will ever meet in our entire existences, and she's had affairs with more than her fair share of them."

Sarah grimaced at this. "It sounds like I'm back in high school again!"'

Raven ignored that comment because she was unfamiliar with the term "high school", but instead continued. "Darius's other children, all female and all as beautiful as Ta'en, have similar traits, though none of them are quite as wild or as impertinent as the young cretin. Two of them have been married off to the younger sons of several Minor Kingdoms, while the remaining three live at home and practice Gods only know what kind of crazed voodoo."

"Jareth did refuse, didn't he?" Sarah looked almost fearfully at Raven. "No favor is worth that kind of hell."

Raven smiled and nodded, a look of relief in her eyes. "There's something else you probably don't know, Sarah. Just as the elves before us, when Fae marry, it is a lifetime affair. Once a Fae has been married, should something happen to his spouse, he is unable to marry again. He is also supposed to be celibate, and think of no other Fae, but in this day and age it goes on rather behind the Council's back. The whole system works well for the general Fae populace, though, because marriage is not taken lightly, and if two Fae do marry, should some horrible accident befall the other, the living partner generally never desires to mate again. However, nobility is another case altogether."

"Most royal Fae are married before birth by their parents to gain the greatest worldly advantages. The High King, thankfully, was smarter than that. Jareth has been given almost the entire prime of his life to choose a mate – unfortunately, he hasn't had much success. Dulsinea would have and should have been his wife, but Jareth was a young fool at the time and… We won't go into that anymore."

"Anyways, Jareth has not found a woman fit to be Queen by his side in all these years, and the time of reckoning draws nigh. If he cannot find a bride by his birthday two years hence, then The High King shall choose one for him."

Sarah grimaced at the fact that all of these people were so much older than she. Even Raven, as young and active as she appeared, was several millennia old. "Just how old is Jareth, Raven?"

Seeing the girl's anxiety on her face, the Fae simply replied, "By human reckoning, I would say he was twenty-four." At a look from Sarah, she added, "That answer must satisfy you, dear, because I'm not prepared to give another."

Sarah waved a hand negligently and said, "Continue with your explanation, Raven. I will need to know these things eventually if I am to stay here."

"There is not much left to tell, and thankfully so because we near the city. With Jareth's refusal to wed Ta'en, he made a powerful enemy of Darius. One would not imagine that someone so low in social standing could ever be a threat to the heir to the High Throne, but he has learned a thug's ways from his hooligan attendants. He has spread rumors and discord in The High Court, and continues to weary Jareth to no end. To make matters worse, several of the bordering kingdoms, in hearing of this falling out have joined Darius in attempting to start a war, to see some of Jareth's lands handed to them and his money in their own coffers. Jareth has been in meetings with his top advisor and representatives from all of the bordering kingdoms for months, but through some unknown means they never seem to get anywhere. And then you arrived, Sarah."

"What have I to do with it?"

"For a human, you're quite unusual, my dear. Your outer appearance is more Elven than most Fae I know, and the longer you stay here, the more accustomed you become to the habits of a noblewoman, rather than a middle class human. It's almost as if your physical features are changing to fit the role we're asking you to play, as well, but that's beside my point. You have an inner strength and confidence not easily rivaled, not to mention that you beat Jareth at his own game. That alone would be enough to send you down in history, but you have captured Jareth's attentions and quite possibly his heart. News of your arrival has spread like wildfire through the court, as well as rumors of your race. All of the women sent here as Jareth's potential brides, of course, have noticed you, whether you saw them or not, and have reported back to their various fathers and brothers and uncles what they have seen and heard. You look Fae enough for the part, but Sarah is an undeniably human name, and you have a pronounced Aboveground accent, though you are quickly picking up our mannerisms and speech patterns, thankfully."

"Well, what's so wrong with me being human?" Sarah demanded, obviously offended.

"When the Elves ruled the land, they frequently brought many humans through the rift to work here as slaves. They were treated horribly, and quickly succumbed to our diseases, many of which are not known Aboveground. After the Elves were banished, the few remaining humans were returned to their homes and families after their memories were erased, and the Council decided that all ties with humans would be forthwith severed. It has ever since been illegal to harbor a human adult in the Underground for more than twenty-four Aboveground hours. Jareth ran a great risk bringing you here, and chances ruin and possibly death by keeping you."

A sober look came across Sarah's face, and they rode in silence the rest of the way.

The city was clean and well ordered with all the charm of a medieval castle town and none of the filth. Small goblins ran rampant in the streets, chasing balls and any other instrument they could find to entertain themselves while their mothers gossiped over the wash and their fathers worked. Sarah followed Raven through the small residential area and into a large, brick-paved square. Small designs carved on the wood of each door indicated the occupation and other necessary facts of the business within, but Sarah could not read the script.

"To your right is a furrier, Sarah," the now familiar voice whispered in her head. "And ahead of you is the jeweler. And back in the corner is a clothier. You know the characters; all you have to do is look."

Sarah glanced up reluctantly and saw that as if by magic she did understand the writing carved into the doors, and it scared her more than she would admit even to herself.

"After we visit the jeweler, Sarah, we must visit the Feather Shop, for no respectable Fae would be caught dead without her fan, and you must look the part."

Sarah raised an eyebrow at this while they dismounted.

"Ah, I guess you know nothing of this." She lowered her voice and looked around her, "It is the latest Fae fashion to advertise your social and marital status through a fan, which all females carry. Generally, married women choose their feathers to match the colors of their houses, or occasionally to match their dress. However, all noble females that are unmarried or are seeking diversions from their normal routines use feathers to advertise their interests. Firstly, any Fae with more than one color in her fan is either married or promised, while a solid fan has an encrypted message. A lady with white feathers is completely uninterested in anything beyond the normal social niceties, while a woman with red feathers is looking for a passionate diversion. Purple feathers express a desire for money while yellow feathers are looking for a humorous companion or two to entertain. Sapphire feathers show a desire for something long-lasting while emerald feathers say that their possessor is taken. And, of course, you should choose the fabric and style of your dress to match the message displayed by your feathers at the event."

"Ah." Was all Sarah could say, as she followed the raven-haired woman into the shop which proudly displayed 'Jeweler' on its door.

The interior was close, illuminated by an almost blinding light, its emerald green walls seeming to press down on her. A small, shriveled goblin sat behind a cluttered desk, squinting at a large pink stone, its flat planes and pure depths highlighted by the strong light emitting from a glass globe behind it. Raven cleared her throat softly, and the ancient creature looked up. His expression was that of a crotchety old man who had been rudely interrupted, and he grudgingly reached behind him to tap the globe, which immediately dampened its intensity to a tolerable level. He blinked several times and then a dawning light crept over his prune-like face. He rose quickly, wincing as ancient joints popped and cracked, and hobbled over to lovingly take Raven's hand.

"It's been a while, my dear!" He exclaimed, excitement apparent in his still-bright eyes. "What can I get for you today? There's a beautiful amethyst I've kept hidden from the rest of the rabble, just waiting for you." He started to lead her toward a curtain covered door, but she stopped him.

"No, Emil, it's not me here to shop today." She turned to look at Sarah, who stood slightly behind her.

The old man studied her, his eyes lingering on her jeweled necklace and tiara before whispering rather loudly, "She certainly isn't the Countess of Rel though she wears her jewelry. Is she Jareth's?"

At a nod from Raven, he relinquished her hand and shuffled back to Sarah. As he intently studied her hands, Raven cast an apologetic glance in Sarah's direction, seeing the look of hurt in her eyes.

"Well, I've definitely seen worse," the old man finally said, and pulled Sarah toward the velvet curtain while Raven followed quietly behind.

The curtains parted to reveal a cavernous room, cream plush carpet and beige walls, with organized shelves that reminded Sarah of nothing more than a huge library. They ranged to the ceiling, covered the walls, and lined in organized rows all along the floor. Instead of dusty tomes, however, each emerald shelf held small drawers with illegible labels and complicated locks. Long wooden ladders ranged the walls and the individual shelves, rollers attached to almost invisible tracks in the carpeting. Three other doors exited the room, one on each wall, and Sarah guessed that they led to similar storage areas.

They followed Emil to the center of the room, to a broad square of carpet absent of shelves, fitted with a glossy cherry-wood table and several chairs. "Please, sit down ladies, and I shall be back in a moment." He hobbled away, squinting at the labels on several drawers, opening some but never removing their contents.

"I'm sorry for earlier," Raven whispered, "but if I hadn't agreed with him he wouldn't have brought you back here. He only accepts the wealthiest of the nobles as customers, and I'm sorry but here, without Jareth, you're nothing more than a pauper."

The words stung Sarah's ego, but they sadly rang true. She choked back her pride and nodded stiffly. Now to see what extravagance Jareth's acquaintance has won me, she thought bitterly.

The ancient goblin returned promptly, balancing five of the drawers on his arms. He lined each one on the table, and looked expectantly at Sarah.

She hesitantly reached out and drew the closest one to her, peering down into its velvet lined contents. Inside was a small, intricately carved, eight pointed star, fashioned from a single emerald, it appeared, and suspended on a tiny, delicate platinum chain. She gingerly lifted it and peered at it, before turning to the goblin. "It's absolutely breathtaking!"

The ancient creature beamed despite himself, and gestured to the others, which she inspected as well. Inside the next was a gold ring, set with a small, square-cut pink diamond. The other drawers contained a set of garnet earrings, a yellow gold and emerald tiara, and a tiny amethyst ring set in white gold. Raven held up her own pinky, which displayed the same ornament. "Consider it a gift from me, dear," she smiled.

"Well, are they all satisfactory; are there any you don't like?"

"No, they're all perfect beyond my wildest imaginings," Sarah replied, and made to stand up, as if to go. The pressure of Raven's hand on her leg made her sit back down, and the goblin disappeared, only to soon return with more boxes.

Almost two hours later, the two women stumbled out of the shop into the bright midmorning light, Raven sporting a new amethyst bracelet that she hadn't been able to talk Emil out of. Sarah had been loaded down with necklaces, pendants, earrings, tiaras, rings, bracelets and any other bit of jewelry she could imagine, before the old goblin had taken each individual piece, placed it gingerly in its box, and promised to have it delivered.

The sun hung heavily overhead, and the temperature promised a midday heat wave. They strode confidently across the courtyard toward the Feather Shop, and stayed there until well after noon, Sarah selecting different colors, clips and bases to create her fans. She had two white fans made, the long, soft plumes winking at her innocently from their stately platinum clips, while several yellow feathers waved languidly from their light, silver clips, a single set of emerald plumes stood at attention from an ebony clip. Raven had shaken her head when she saw Sarah's selection, and disappeared among the aisles of extravagant feathers. She returned with one red set with a bone base, a black set into gold, and every other color of the rainbow imaginable. As she passed Sarah, she snatched the girl's previous selections and piled them on top as well. "Can't have anyone suspicious, can we dear?" She whispered as the goblinette at the counter gave the human a knowing wink.

The rest of the day they spent in the other shops, browsing at their leisure. At Raven's insistence, Sarah ordered four light cloaks, one in deep, rich amber, one of light, silver grey, one of soft, verdant green and the last in the darkest black she could find. In addition, she had several thick, winter cloaks made at the Furrier, each one lined with soft, downy fur with hats, gloves and boots to match. As they exited the shop, a small black, white and grey kitten marched out from behind a neighboring tree and crossed their path. It stopped directly in front of them and sat with a determined air. Sarah reached down to stroke it before they continued to the Clothier, where Raven had several new outfits made for herself.

Energies exhausted and appetites piqued, they whistled for their horses as they discussed the day's purchases. The kitten, so tiny and very rail thin, raced across the court, scrabbling up the back of Sarah's breeches and perching comfortably on her shoulder before she had time to react. Laughing, she gently pried it from her shoulder and set it gingerly on the ground.

It looked up at her with unnervingly sapphire eyes, its gaze almost piercing her innermost thoughts. Marching deliberately forward, it sat on her foot, its weight warm and soft on her shoe.

She cast a helpless look at Raven, who only shrugged. "Maybe it likes you? You should take it back with you – I think it's adorable, and it will be quite a surprise for Jareth."

Sarah bent down to pick up the tiny creature, its fuzzy warmth trembling in her hands. She brought it to eye level and returned its unnerving gaze. Embarrassing as it was, she was the first to look away, and sought an ample distraction to keep her mind from the azure eyes boring holes in her. She instead studied its markings, which were indeed a diversion. It looked as if the kitten had angered a crazy, drunken painter in the midst of mixing a grey for his canvas. It had frenetic and completely random smatterings of white, black and various shades of grey all over its body in equal proportions.

The poor, defenseless kitten sported a long, black stocking on its front right leg, a short, charcoal grey sock on its left front leg that faded quickly into white, while it's back right and left legs were pale grey and black, respectively. One grey ear flicked at her from a mostly black face, though white spattered from its muzzle as though a bowl of milk had exploded in its face and covered the right ear in a large patch. A grey area around the left cerulean eye completed the pattern, while its tail was an indecipherable conglomeration of a white base, a tiny grey splotch, and a ragged black tip. The poor thing sported overly-large, awkward paws that seemed to have a few too many toes, and eyes the color of sapphires sparkling brilliantly in the sun.

As she continued to study it, the creature gave a faint, ragged purr and Sarah couldn't resist. She nodded assent at Raven with a smile that stretched from ear to ear. Stroking its face gingerly, she crooned to it as she smoothed out the short fur. Gradually, under her careful ministrations, its purring grew more steady, and it nestled in her arms as comfortably as if it had belonged there all of its short life.

Promptly, Orome trotted up, followed by N'Uma Esse, and they were off toward the castle, two women satisfied after a long day of shopping.

Jareth inwardly sighed as the dark-haired man in front of him began to list figures and facts that Jareth had no hope of following. They'd been at this all morning, and at the rate they were going, would be at it well into the night. Jareth honestly didn't see where any of what these people had been saying mattered. They couldn't force him to marry, couldn't force him to be their ally, couldn't force him to give up the lands and rights that went with his kingdom! They fought and squabbled over what he would do with his life just as his father did. It was ridiculous, and the thought of a war starting over this nonsense revolted the Goblin King to no end.

"Yes," he interjected coolly into the man's break for air, "but what has King Leon's decreased trade with the Pixies have to do with me conceding him rights to my waterways?" Had the world gone mad? The thought drifted up unbidden as the man shuffled his papers, looked sufficiently ruffled and then launched into another tirade, his nasal tone droning like the not-so-subtle buzzing of an angry beehive.

Jareth's calm voice sliced through the man's like a hot knife through butter. "Go back to your king and you tell him if he thinks for one minute that I'm weak or vulnerable due to this intrigue with Darius, he's finally gone senile. And until you can come up with something better than this," he gestured at the huge ream of papers on the table between them, "Don't return and waste my time. Or better yet, don't come back at all. You're dismissed."

He rubbed his temples as the indignant man gathered his figures to him and stiffly stalked out of the door. A nasty headache was building up right behind his eyes, and he knew he'd feel its ravages later. Nothing an innocent celvassy couldn't cure, but later, when he was alone and didn't need clear thoughts. Not that he'd had many lately. There was a constant subtle buzzing in his brain that kept him from concentrating, like a human saw had taken up residence in his head. It had appeared recently, just after Sarah had arrived.

Sarah – now there was a thought worth entertaining! He was pleased with himself for his achievements in her wardrobe and jewelry. She had seemed genuinely pleased with it, as Emil had reported, and that was enough for Jareth. He had sent for the horse merchant, which would be here later this evening with another of Jareth's presents.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts before calling out, "Next!" and bent back to the crisis at hand. This time a tall blond boy strode in, though Jareth wasn't fooled by its Fae appearances. This was a merman, and the straits must have been dire indeed to call them from their contemplations at the depths of the sea.

"Jareth," he said quietly, and the Goblin King recognized the boy as the Mer-Prince, whom he had met at a royal banquet just last year. He had genuinely liked the boy, but thought that he took everything around him way too seriously.

"What brings you here, Pieter? I thought that your father had declared himself neutral in this horrid affair."

"That's just it, Jareth, we are neutral. As neutral as we can be, that is, when Darius's marauders are raiding and polluting our kingdom."

The Goblin King blinked. This was not what he had expected. "I had not thought the repulsive little ghoul had sunk that low. You say he's raiding your kingdom do you?"

A grim nod from the boy. "That's why father has sent me to you to offer our services, humble as they may be, in putting down this human." There was a wretched silence before he continued. "And I am to be the leader of our troops."

Jareth understood now. It was just as much a test for the boy as assistance for the Goblin King, and Pieter didn't like it. It was understandable.

"Well, Pieter, why don't you go down to Siri's office and see if she can't put you and your men up for a while. And on your way out, send someone else in."

The merman hesitated. "I'm afraid to say this Jareth, but there aren't any others. Many of them have left the kingdom completely, and I'm afraid that does not bode well for your cause."

Jareth nodded tiredly. "I know Pieter. I suppose it's almost time to pay father a visit. Court should go in session fairly soon, and I want to show my new Lady all of the sights and wonders, as well as demand my father stop this nonsense." He gave the boy an enigmatic smile.

"Is it true Jareth? Have you found love at last?" There was a pregnant pause and then, "Is she really a – a," he lowered his voice to a whisper, "human?"

Jareth tried for a robust laugh, but even to his own ears it fell short. So the court did know about her then? Well, his father and every other Fae in the Kingdom be damned, he would not let her go. "Don't believe everything you hear, boy. Now run along, I'm sure Siri's wondering why there are troops in the courtyard."

He ordered a glass of red wine from the kitchens as he watched Pieter retreat. He could sense Sarah and Raven drawing closer and closer to the castle, and smiled to himself.

As they rode happily into the courtyard, Raven noticed two major things amiss. Firstly, There were considerable number of troops lined in ranks, facing the castle, and secondly Dondre the horse-merchant was desperately fighting to stay astride a huge, red beast that reminded Raven more of a dragon than a horse. Gesturing to Sarah to stay back, she rode up to what looked like the commander of the troops.

"State your business," she snarled, hoping to catch him off-guard.

"Captain Oser, at your service ma'am. These are the troops sent by his majesty King Alev to aid King Jareth in his fight against Darius."

"Ah," she replied, and saw Siri shuffle out of a side door. The woman did not look happy at having to house this many troops, and rightly so. Her fears quelled, she motioned Sarah to follow her and rode swiftly over to Dondre.

As soon as they approached the huge beast calmed itself, and the Fae was able to dismount. "Thank you Raven, I don't know what I would've done without you!" He exclaimed breathily as he sagged against her horse. Raven quickly dismounted, followed by Sarah.

"What is this monstrosity, Dondre? Look at it! No Fae in their right mind would ride that thing. It would trample them or eat them, whichever opportunity presented itself first!"

The horse snorted as if it heard and understood her and the merchant backed away. "Yes, well, unfortunately, it is now yours. Or rather, it belongs to a woman named…" He shuffled some papers in his hand before coming up with the right one, "Sarah!"

"That's impossible!" She cried, but soon trailed off as she saw Sarah warily approaching it, the kitten draped around her neck for all the world like a fuzzy scarf. The beast eagerly trotted forward to meet her questing hand, its huge head butting her. She gently stroked its mane and crooned to it much as she had the kitten, and it let itself be stroked.

Dondre shook his head and laughed. "When we were told to breed a horse for the woman, I expected something small, grey and easily controlled from Jareth's description of her. When this thing came out, I would have put it down if I didn't know that these things never failed. And look, it is matched to her!"

Indeed, it seemed as complacent as N'Uma Esse, its huge nose questing forward to sniff the kitten, who flexed its paws in warning. Sarah confidently walked the length of its side, admiring its muscles as they rippled under its glossy coat. It was almost fire red, with long black socks and a questing black nose. Its mane was as black as night at the base and faded out to a white at its tips, as though someone had bleached it. She looked askance at Dondre. "What is this strange coloring?" She asked.

His reply was merely to shrug. "When we produced a beast this size, we didn't care about what it looked like, all we cared about was whether it would kill you the first time you tried to mount it."

"I'm interested to know its name, Dondre," Raven cut in. It would have to be something that conveyed power and not a little bit of wildness.

"We took to calling him Vell Fea Seldar because for all his size and muscle he can move a quickly and as silently as that tiny kitten of yours, ma'am."

"Well," Raven said, still looking at the horse, "I guess it fits then. Why don't you join us, Dondre, I'm sure Jareth would love to see you. You know you're always welcome here."

"Thank you kindly but I must be going. I have several more deliveries to make before sunset, or I would stay. Good luck with your new horse, ma'am."

In a flash he disappeared, leaving them stranded in the middle of the bustling courtyard with only the monster horse for protection.

"Well, Sarah, here you are, an official part of the Underground. Now all you need is a sufficiently Fae sounding name and no one could tell the difference. By the way, your horse's name means –"

"The Ghost God. I know." The human looked at Raven as though daring her to challenge the translation which was, amazingly, correct.

Not another word was spoken as they led the three horses into the stable and then headed for the castle. They went their separate ways at the threshold, Raven having some business to take care of with her brother. Sarah wandered aimlessly, enjoying the sensation of castle life going on around her. Servants hustled by, carrying loads of clothes, trays with full and empty dishes, papers and notes, and anything else they happened to find out of place.

Rich, thick carpets lined the halls beneath her feet, tapestries, paintings and sculptures brightened the walls, and her way was lighted by clear, crystal globes that encased flames much like miniature lanterns. Occasionally she passed a huge window with a magnificent view and was forced to stop and stare at the sun that had just begun to touch the horizon with its fiery rim.

Her new kitten went with her, either gamboling at her feet or draped about her neck, or occasionally dashing to trip up an unwary servant. He was like a tiny, fuzzy companion to anchor her in the real world and keep her thoughts from wandering to ifs, would haves, and should haves. His tiny warmth was more reassuring than it should have been, but she didn't think about that either, just let her mind blissfully wander.

It wandered so far that when she found herself outside the war-council room, she strode right in without thought for what might be going on inside. Luckily there were no startled or disgruntled dignitaries from other kingdoms to stare openly at her. Instead Jareth sat, his back to her and his boots resting on something she couldn't discern. His blond, tousled hair cheekily defied all attempts at taming, and stood almost at attention. He gazed out on the evening, the sun a huge, blazing ball that almost eclipsed the sky in its demand for attention and reverence. She watched him, all of his pretences abandoned, as vulnerable as he ever would be.

He sipped lightly at a glass of deep red wine, his long fingers caressing the glass stem in a way that entranced Sarah. He seemed so innocent sitting there, his boots propped up, almost like a little boy who had somehow become a man in an instant. Her old view of the Goblin King was forever shattered by this moment, and she didn't wish to disturb it. She turned to silently leave, but was stopped by a loud shout and the sound of shattering glass.

The kitten it seemed, had had plans of its own, and had been watching the beam of light refracted through Jareth's glass as it danced on the floor, the look of a predator in its every twitch and movement. It had hunched down, its hindquarters swaying, its pupils dilated to almost obscuring the dazzling blue of its eyes, preparing to strike. Unfortunately, its chosen moment of attack had been precisely when the beam was cavorting on Jareth's leg. Its pounce and subsequent clawing had startled Jareth and caused him to drop his wine, which had shattered and splashed everywhere.

Spluttering and cursing, the Goblin King shot out of his chair and seized his assailant, gloved hands grasping the tiny kitten in a vice-like grip.

"No, Jareth, stop!" Sarah shouted, gasping for breath from laughing so hard. He turned, startled to find her there, and look askance as he reluctantly released the kitten. With a mewl of terror, it raced to Sarah and swarmed up the back of her clothes to perch on her shoulder, its claws lacerating her in its death grip.

"Where did you come from?" He spluttered, still splashed with wine and not a little startled.

Sarah suppressed another giggle and stood up straight, mirth still shining in her eyes. "I was wandering around, and just ended up here, though I'm still not sure how. I'm sorry I – he startled you." She gestured with her head toward the mottled kitten whose eyes were still wide with fear.

He smiled and gestured to a seat next to his at the head of the table. A quick blink and his wine-spattered clothes were gone, replaced by a wondrously white and cream outfit. He resumed his seat beside her, an odd smile on his face, and said, "You caught me woolgathering, Sarah. It's more my fault than yours – or his. Where did he come from, anyways?" He reached a now-bare hand out, letting the cat sniff it warily. Deciding that Jareth was trustworthy, the kitten leapt from Sarah's shoulder to Jareth's lap, performing three quick turns before settling down with a satisfied purr. Jareth gave a rare smile and an even rarer laugh at its antics.

"I found him today while Raven and I were shopping. Or rather, he found me. He wandered out from behind a tree like the shadow he resembles, and wouldn't hear of being left behind. I didn't have the heart to abandon the poor thing – he looked so hungry."

"He is an unusual looking chap, isn't he?" He stroked gently behind its ears, a loud basso purr that sounded larger than the cat itself surrounded them. "Enthusiastic, too. Have you named him?"

"No, I haven't thought of a name yet." Haven't thought much at all, lately, she added silently to herself.

"Well, what about… Bern?"

"Too plain!" Sarah exclaimed as she reached to stroke the kitten.

"Gevan?"

"Nope! How's… Hellorin?"

"Sounds too much like 'hellion'," Jareth replied, "and I most certainly don't want him trying to live up to that name in my castle. How's Diccon sound?"

"I like that one, but I like Chak more."

"Chak. It sounds too stately. Let's try Martek."

"Or Janok," she added with a smile.

"Philias?"

"Absolutely not! I still like Chak."

"Let's try a few more," Jareth said good-naturedly.

"Okay, Warrior."

Jareth looked from her to the tiny mound of fuzz sleeping peacefully on his lap. "It doesn't seem to fit. He's too manly for it," he added with a chuckle. "Zander?"

"Chiamh."

"What about something simple like, Shadow?"

"Nah. Odin was the king of the Norse Gods, but would it fit?"

Jareth snorted inelegantly. "Might as well name him Apollo as name him Odin."

"Fine then. If we're going that way, let's name him Caesar."

"I prefer Cassius's personality to Caesar's," they watched the kitten look up and yawn pinkly at them before resting its head again on its paws, black-tipped tail covering its tiny pink nose, "but it doesn't seem that he likes either."

"I know. We'll call him Loki!"

Jareth sighed. "It has the same problem as Hellorin – I don't want him trying to play the part of his namesake. You understand that we'll probably never agree, anyways?"

She nodded. "I guess it comes down to Diccon, Chak, Martek and… Shadow? Well why don't we let him decide?" She looked at him for confirmation, but his only response was to shake the creature from its sleep with a vigorous rub.

It opened rheumy eyes and looked up at him. "Diccon," Sarah crooned, but the cat only yawned at her. "Martek! Here kitty, kitty…" She held out her fingers to it, but it studied its tiny black toes as if she didn't exist. "Shadow?" Its ears flicked at her voice, but it instead began an energetic cleaning regimen on its tiny black paw. A devilish grin lit Sarah's features, and at last she called, "Chak! Come here kitty!"

The patchwork head snapped up from its ministrations to look at her. Standing slowly, it stretched long and languorously before padding over to her lap, where it looked askance at her. "So you like Chak too, do you kitty?" Sarah said, but its only reply was to meow curiously and then jump down to explore.

"Chak it is then!" Jareth grinned. His smile soon relaxed into a serious countenance and he sent an order to the kitchen for more wine. "Would you like something to drink, Sarah?"

She shook her head, "No, but Chak might like a bowl of milk."

"Milk it is, then."

They waited in silence, Sarah watching the kitten futilely chase a large blue and black butterfly, and Jareth watching Sarah. The remaining sunlight streamed in through the open windows and rested on her hair, highlighting the faint strands of auburn and brown in the dark chocolate locks. The tiara resting gently on her head, unmistakably the Countess of Rel's, was set ablaze by the errant sunbeams, giving her a crown of fire. She was beautiful.

A servant entered, the blush wine that Jareth had ordered in one hand, and Chak's bowl of milk in the other. She set the bowl on the floor near the window and presented Jareth with his wine before leaving. He sipped it, enjoying the smooth fruity taste, and turned to find Sarah studying him with a peculiar expression.

"Sarah –" he said, just as she said "Jareth –" and they both blushed. "Ladies first," Jareth said, giving her the most stately bow he could while still sitting down.

"I – I want to thank you, for everything you've done for me – the jewelry, the horse, the clothes. It all seems too good to be true. I think the Underground is wonderful in every way, and everyone is just great, but –"

Jareth felt his heart sink somewhere down to the vicinity of his leather boots and was sure that if he hadn't been wearing them it would have continued its descent into the floor. He had been dreading this moment since he first brought her to the Underground, terrified that he hadn't saved her in time. And now she was going to tell him that she didn't want to stay. "But you want to go back Aboveground." He finished bitterly, and before he could stop himself, he continued, self-loathing in his changeling eyes. "You miss your college and your friends and all of the wonders of human technology. You want to go become a movie star and have the world adore you. You want me to know that you forgive me for kidnapping you and if I'll just send you home now you won't seek retribution. All you care about is –"

He didn't get to finish, however, because Sarah laid a restraining hand on his thigh. He stopped and looked up at her, emotions churning behind his eyes, unable to summon even a semblance of his Goblin King façade. What he saw in her expression as he looked at her confused him, and filled him with bitter, empty hope. He wanted to go find some empty corner of the universe and cry like a child who has watched its puppy die.

Her eyes held not a little confusion, a touch of warm mirth that he felt was mocking him, and a bit of sadness. Her lips were pressed together as though she were choosing her words carefully. "No." She said softly. "That's not it at all." His heart soared, and he tamped down on it ruthlessly, afraid to hope and yet unable to stop.

She picked her hand up from his leg and reached for his free hand, as the other gripped the wine glass with almost enough pressure to shatter it. Picking it up, she began to chafe it with her considerably smaller ones, and it was then he realized that he was freezing. His entire body had gone cold. Slowly, warmth returned to that hand, and he downed half his glass of wine in one gulp, unable to take his eyes off her.

Still holding his hand gently in hers, she continued. "I wanted to say that I couldn't just stay here and live on your hospitality. Raven reminded me today that without you, I'm nothing but a pauper. I want to do something! I don't know how I feel about this," she waved one hand as if to encompass the entire world with it. "but I do know that I belong here. I belong here more than I ever belonged back Aboveground. I don't know how, I don't know why, but this is where I want to stay." Tear welled in her eyes but did not fall, and soon she continued, still holding his hand, and he didn't want her to let go, ever. "I love Raven, I love Ter, I love Arne, I love the fields and the forests and all the creatures in them." Her breath caught in her throat and Jareth felt his heart pounding as though it would burst, hoping against hope. "I – I might even love you." Her grip tightened on his hand. "I just don't want to sit idly here, playing the princess. I want to earn my keep, if you will." She suddenly blushed, looking down at his hand. "I've left the Aboveground behind more completely than I left my mother's womb behind. Everything that ever happened to me there seems like it was more than a lifetime ago. I have no desire to return. I just want to stay here, with you."

Still grasping his hand, she brought it up to her face, resting her cheek on its wide, smooth palm. She closed her eyes and turned, kissing each of his fingertips in turn so gently that he almost didn't feel it before again resting her cheek in its center. Jareth, unable to stop himself, pulled her to him in a fierce and passionate kiss, the world forgotten. She trembled beneath him as his arms encircled her, but met his lips with a fiery fervor of her own. Still trembling with the ravages of their sudden passion, they held each other, everyone and everything else forgotten. They clung to each other as if both were drowning and only the other could save the one. After a few minutes, he was able to release her with some semblance of dignity, though he continued to hold her hand in his.

Both looked down to see the kitten, its sapphire eyes keen, staring up at them with a curious expression, it's crazy-quilt head cocked to one side. "Merow?" It asked, and then sauntered over to the bowl of milk, where it sat down with delight and lapped it up with a purr. Sarah managed a shaky laugh and Jareth smiled as it purred luxuriously.

"Very well, then Sarah. Tomorrow, I am yours alone. You and I will go wherever you want to, and we will find something for you to do that makes you feel like you belong. This nonsense has got to stop. I will send word to the Kings tomorrow that if they do not stop this nonsense at once, then I will take it as aggression and it will be the start of war." He stood and stretched. "I'm going now, but I will call on you in the morning." He bent down and kissed her forehead gently. Before turning to leave, he stooped to regard Chak, who looked solemnly at him. Putting one finger under the kitten's chin, Jareth lifted it up so he could look directly down into its eyes. "You take good care of your mistress for me tonight, lad. She means more to me than anything else in the world." The kitten chewed on his finger and meowed mock ferociously. "She's in good hands, then."

With that he turned and disappeared, leaving Sarah to sit and stare at the last of the sunset, emotions warring within her.

Good lord I thought I would never finish! Okay, until next time!


	5. Chapter 4 Part I: Life For Rent

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

AN Apologies for the long wait. I've been working on this chapter for what seems like ever, and I just can't seem to finish it. Probably because it's longer than any of my others chapters AND because I couldn't decide what I want to happen next. But I got sick of waiting. So here it us. I have a lot of part two done, actually, which makes me happy. Give me… oh, say a week to finish it.

**_CHAPTER 4: _**Life for Rent

I haven't ever really found a place that I call home

I never stick around quite long enough to make it

I apologize that once again I'm not in love

But it's not as if I mind that your heart ain't exactly breaking

It's just a thought, only a thought

But if my life is for rent and I don't learn to buy

Well I deserve nothing more than I get

'Cos nothing I have is truly mine

I've always thought that I would love to live by the sea

To travel the world alone and live more simply

I have no idea what's happened to that dream

'Cos there's really nothing left here to stop me

It's just a thought, only a thought

But if my life is for rent and I don't learn to buy

Well I deserve nothing more than I get

'Cos nothing I have is truly mine

While my heart is a shield and I won't let it down

While I am so afraid to fail so I won't even try

Well how can I say I'm alive

But if my life is for rent and I don't learn to buy

Well I deserve nothing more than I get

'Cos nothing I have is truly mine

Dido Life for Rent

PART I 

Sarah awoke feeling unusually refreshed. She sat up in bed, enjoying the lavish sheets' silky fabric against her skin and reveling in the almost-light peeping at her through the gap in the long, emerald curtains. Jareth's passionate kiss still burned pleasantly on her lips as she rose and pulled on the luxuriant robe hanging from her cherry-wood bedpost. It was the color of rich cream, in a cut that very much reminded Sarah of 1910s style, a mixture of silky and soft textures and cut to flatter trim, womanly figures. Securing it firmly around her waist, she strode to the French-paned windows and threw back the hangings, allowing the pale, predawn light into her room. Unable to resist, she strode onto the balcony, breathing in the cool morning air.

A few early birds chirped happily, oblivious to her as they went about their morning routine, and nothing stirred in the courtyard below. It took a moment for Sarah to realize that her bedroom looked down on that garden with the unnervingly real statue of the black unicorn – the one called Dulsinea. Nothing seemed amiss with it from the height of her balcony, but still she shivered and pulled her robe more tightly around her.

"So, Sarah, are you prepared to spend your day with Jareth?" Sarah didn't even look up as she heard the woman behind her.

"Yes, and I'm prepared to do it without you." She turned to stare boldly into sapphire eyes. She had thought long and hard about what the presence of the dark woman meant, and had finally settled on the idea that perhaps the traumatic car wreck had caused a split in her personality. With no therapists to speak of in the Underground, she determined to face her problem fearlessly, and as head-on as possible.

"Ooh, you've become too accustomed to me. Whatever shall I do next to keep you on your toes?"

"It doesn't matter. Whatever you do, I'll be ready for you, until I finally rid myself of your horrid presence. You're nothing more than a figure of my imagination, and a little self-discipline should eliminate you soon."

"I will ignore your impudence because you are very close to discovering what I am, and what you are. I give you my solemn word that I shall leave you to your own thoughts for the next few days if you promise to ask Jareth about the Nine when you go out today."

Curious despite herself, Sarah asked, "What are the Nine?"

"That's for Jareth himself to answer. This will be goodbye for a while, Sarah; I have other matters to attend to." The elfin woman made as if to leave but then glanced back at the last moment. "There's someone trying to get your attention." A delicate finger indicated the courtyard behind her and she turned to see who it was. Ter was standing on a balcony of his own across the way, bare-chested and waving energetically. Spinning back around, Sarah saw that her companion was gone.

She fixed a determinedly bright smile on her face and acknowledged Ter, who had ceased waving and was now grinning at her like a schoolboy. "Good morning to you, Sarah!" He called, his voice echoing across the courtyard.

"And to you, Ter!" She answered, genuinely smiling now. In the past few days she had found a warm, comfortable friend in Ter – his animated eyes, funny stories and ready ear made him the perfect confidante. The fact that he looked much like a Roman Emperor helped matters along, as well. She loved the free-and-easy way they talked, and she felt so relaxed when he was around.

"May I join you so that we don't have to shout?"

She nodded and he disappeared into his own suite at a run. She shook her head and turned back to enter her bedroom, intent on her closet. Unfortunately, there were some obstacles to keep her from reaching it. Chak now sat up on her bed, blue eyes curious and patchwork head tilted to the side as he stared towards her door.

Several goblins lined the far wall of the room, laden with any number of goods including the cloaks she had purchased the day before, her fans, and her jewelry. The goblinette who had taken care of her wardrobe the previous morning peered at her above a tall armful of feathers.

"Your permission to put these away miss?" She asked, and Sarah nodded numbly.

In an instant the goblins swarmed her room, tucking the fans into an intricately carved trunk at the foot of Sarah's bed, and gently laying the jewelry into a velvet-lined, cherry-wood jewelry chest that was taller than her and half again as wide. About midway through this unceremonious delivery, there came a knock at her door. Unable to wade through the sea of goblins in her room to reach it, she settled quickly on the bed and called for her visitor to enter.

The door opened and Ter stood before her, clad in all black, as usual – ebony pants belted loosely at his waist, and a jet robe similar to her cream one, unbelted, revealed his marble skin and well-muscled chest and stomach. She was speechless, and stared openly at him as he waded through the goblins to reach her.

"Sarah." He spoke softly when he finally reached her bed, as though afraid of startling her. When she didn't reply he put a hand gently on her shoulder and said slightly louder, "Sarah."

She jumped as though shocked and met his deep, grey eyes with a blush. "Sorry. I kind of zoned out there for a minute. What were you saying?"

"I was wondering if we might go somewhere else, and give these goblins time to finish their business."

"Sure. Where do you want to go? I'm not dressed for anything."

He flashed his trademark grin at her and took her hand without answering. He led her through the goblins to the wall, ignoring her exclamations of confusion as he concentrated. She watched in silence as he traced a rune in the air and an opening appeared, admitting them into a richly furnished parlor done in shades of pale eggshell and offset by teak furniture and gold accents.

"All of the suites have a parlor, Sarah, and many of them have other rooms besides, though now that I think about it, you haven't had access to yours, have you?" She shook her head and he turned to the wall that had closed behind them. "When we leave I'll fix the doors so that you have a way into them without magic, okay?"

Sarah nodded and allowed herself to be led to an expansive wall of sheer glass with a view stretching across the sprawling forests all the way to the sea, where a table was set with breakfast for two. She watched quietly as Ter sat confidently and poured himself a cup of tea from a pot, dispensing cream from a tiny matching pitcher into his steaming vessel. He also judiciously selected a slice of moist, rich, brown bread and two or three small slices of an unknown fruit.

"Would you like something, Sarah?"

She shook her head and continued to watch him as he sampled tea, bread and fruit and nodded approvingly.

"I apologize for devouring your breakfast, but Jareth and I were up all night last night **_negotiating_** with the High King, and I missed dinner. I came to ask if you would like to join me this evening for some entertainment. My older sister Kitiara and her husband are stopping for a few hours on their way to the Pixie Kingdom, and wish me to meet them." They sat mutely for a few minutes, and Sarah watched as Ter ate almost delicately, nibbling as would a mouse. He stared out towards the sea, absorbed in his own thoughts, and a cloud passed over his already stormy eyes. He stopped eating and frowned as though searching for the right words. "I would warn you, however, that neither my sister nor her husband are by any means conventional Fae, and they tend to insist on less respectable places than the palace."

Sarah looked at him in utter confusion. "What are you saying? Are they criminals?"

A light blush kissed his cheeks, and he shook his head furiously. "No, not criminals. My, ah, sister ignored my father's demand that she marry the Mer King, who had lost his wife the year previous to her, ah, 'escape'. When she heard that she was to be betrothed, she ran away with and married a man named Bran, who is a minstrel, among other pursuits. Bran is a good fellow who enjoys life just as much as anyone has a right to and probably more, but in turn he attracts more than his fair share of trouble. They asked me to meet them at a tavern called The Silver Unicorn – it's in the lower districts of town, if you get my meaning, but they have excellent ale and the entertainment isn't half bad either. If you don't want to go, I won't blame you, but I think you would like them if you met them."

Sarah narrowed her eyes and gave him a playful smile. "I don't know what most of the Fae women are like, but I am no shrinking violet, Ter, nor am I some lady that is offended by anything less than a thousand roses and an immaculate ballroom. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you had altogether forgotten that I'm human. Anyways, I would love to join you, but I'm spending the day with Jareth, so I might not be back to the castle before sunset."

He grinned at her. "Sunset's perfect. I'll see you then. Meet you at the front gates, or would you rather somewhere else?" He finished the last of his fruit and wiped his fingers on a billowing cloth napkin.

"The front gates are fine, as long as you can give me time to get back and change – chances are something I wear to spend a day with Jareth is going to look out of place in a tavern."

He smiled at her and nodded, pouring himself another glass of tea and adding a generous dollop of cream. "You're right. I didn't even think of that." He worked hard to suppress the jealousy welling up inside of him and a slightly awkward silence followed as he struggled to control his emotions.

Sarah, who had blushed and looked out the window once she'd realized what she'd done, turned to him suddenly with a completely serious look. "Ter, can I ask you a very personal question? You don't have to answer if you don't want to…"

"Absolutely. Ask away."

"Does your sister running away with a minstrel have anything to do with the trouble you and Raven are having with your father? I've heard it mentioned many times, but I've never asked. I hope I'm not being too forward," she added, seeing the look in his eyes.

"Eh, it does and then it doesn't. Our father is a dour old man, and the King of the Fae, which makes him a **_powerful_** dour old man. He's also getting on in his years, and he desperately wants heirs. He wants to pass his kingdom on to someone that he knows will run it as he does. Now, by law, the mantle of rulership would have passed to his firstborn, to Kitiara. However, he didn't like that idea because Kitiara turned out to be as headstrong as our mother ever was when she was alive. Instead he tried to marry her off, hoping to settle the responsibility on my shoulders." He laughed bitterly at that, and then continued, "The night she found out she was to marry the Mer King, she was furious. I've never seen someone so angry, and I was afraid for my safety a few times, but she eventually channeled all that energy into throwing breakable things at the wall. Later that night she came to my room to tell me goodbye and that she was leaving. It wasn't discovered until the next week that she had escaped with Bran, who she had known since she was a young girl and he a mere apprentice to the local blacksmith. Soon after they left, he gave up blacksmithing because it didn't agree with him and became a minstrel instead, winning their bread and their rooms by singing at taverns as they traveled. Upon hearing news of her disappearance, father immediately disowned her, and gleefully so. Kitiara was happy, Bran was happy, but that left Raven and me as his targets."

"We would have been content to accept the throne, together, as we do all things, but he would have none of it. One week after Kitiara ran away he announced that I was to succeed him on the throne and Raven was to become a Priestess at the Temple of Souls, which is far, far to the south. He was trying to separate us as he had done since our birth. It didn't work. The night before Raven was to take her vows of solitude and depart, we packed what we could easily carry and rode as far from the kingdom as we could get. I guess we all got more of our mother than he had wished, for a more independent, high-spirited set of children has never existed." He grinned at her. "Lucky for us, with Jareth's father being the High King, Jareth had spent the better part of his youth and adolescence with us, and he granted us sanctuary, which enraged the old bastard." He flushed slightly. "Excuse my language, Sarah, I apologize."

"Anyways, Jareth's continued protection of us has caused serious talk in the courts, and is part of the reason the High King is so reluctant to stop this nonsense with Darius. And unfortunately, until Raven and myself are either married or dead, we must rely on Jareth's sanctuary or our father can drag us back home and bend us to his will as easily as you have bent me to yours." He gave her his alluring smile and kissed her hand gently.

"I shall see you at sunset, my beauty." The door opened before him and he strode out confidently, while the goblinette that seemed to belong to Sarah entered timidly.

"Sorry, miss, but he was threatening to go into fits when he found he couldn't get in." She indicated Chak, who had rushed to Sarah and began ecstatically rubbing her legs. Beyond the girl, Ter stopped to concentrate on the door, and after a brief flash of light, he swept gracefully out.

"That's perfectly okay. He's mine now, in case you didn't know, and I guess he's unusually attached to me. By the way, what's your name?"

The girl blushed demurely and answered, "Pease, Milady. Shall you be needing anything else?"

Sarah thought a moment and an idea dawned on her. "Yes. Yes I would. I would like your opinion on what I should wear today." She stood and exited the room, not daring to glance at the goblinette as she did. She opened the door to her closet and strode in, turning to make sure Pease followed.

"I'm spending the day with Jareth, and I have no idea what to wear. Were I sure that it would be Jareth and me only, then I would have no problems with something very simple and preferably not a skirt. However, we are going out today and there's no telling who we might meet."

"Ah." Pease replied, rather delicately. "Well, in that case I would certainly suggest something elegant, but functional. Not necessarily a skirt, if you're going to be riding a horse, because I don't think it would look appropriate when you straddle the beast, and it's far too uncomfortable to ride sidesaddle if its for any distance. The Ladies of the Underground take their social functions and such very seriously, so I would save those for major events where you are guaranteed to meet most of the royalty in the Underground." She waved a hand to indicate the side of the room that held gowns and complicated looking dresses. "His majesty's favorite color is blue, so why not this? I think it would please him greatly, because these are also the kingdom colors. The boots for it are in the corner, if this is your choice."

The goblinette held up a very pale blue pair of pants and a cream blouse to match it. Sarah could see the silhouette of a pair of tall, black boots in the shadows. The outfit was elegant without being too showy, and appeared functional enough for riding, or whatever else she might do that day. "I like it. It's perfect." She took the clothes from Pease and indicated that she should get the shoes.

In the outfit, Sarah felt comfortable and cool. She absolutely loved the top, which had a double row of buttons on the front, silk lapels and billowy, gossamer sleeves. The boots, which came to her knees overtop of her pants, were made of rich suede. She felt like a pirate with aspirations to Broadway, and still had a sense of grace and elegance.

Pease ushered her into a cherry-wood chair upholstered in jade-colored fabric and immediately began to pull Sarah's hair back into a loose braid, intertwining several gold ribbons into it as she did. The ribbons served as a tie, and hung evenly at the bottom. The sun was now up in full force, and shone brightly in through the open windows. As the goblinette was going through the various drawers and doors in her jewelry chest, something floated in on the dazzling sunbeams. At first, Sarah thought she was seeing things, but as it drifted closer, she realized what it was.

It was like a bubble of the thinnest glass had wafted in on an air current and was coming towards her. She recognized it from her previous visit to the Underground as one of Jareth's crystals. On a hunch, she stretched her hand out to it, and was delighted as it settled into her palm as lightly as a feather. Unexpectedly, however, she heard his voice in her head.

_"Sarah? Can you hear me?"_

"Yes, I can hear you Jareth," she laughed.

_"You look stunning my lady," _in her mind, Sarah saw the boyish grin that she had come to associate with him, _"And I can't wait to see you in person. I'm just finishing up a few things here, but I'll be there in no more than ten minutes to escort you to our horses. There are some people I want you to meet." _

"Jareth, I forgot to mention yesterday that Dondre the horse merchant met me in the courtyard to present me with my horse. He would have stopped by, but he said he had several other places to visit. I thank you for the gift, as always" she said, "but I'll warn you now so you don't go into shock when you see him. He's quite a monster." She brushed absently at the smooth fabric of her pants as Pease clasped a necklace of twisted gold around her neck.

_"Oh, I'm sure he can't be all that bad." _Jareth said doubtingly, _"Did Dondre tell you his name?"_

"He said his name was Vell Fea Seldar."

In her mind, a puzzled look crossed Jareth's face. _"Unusual name for a horse of his alleged size, isn't it? Oh well. I supposed I had better let you finish getting ready before Pease gives me a real talking to. Until next we meet, beautiful." _Her mental Jareth bowed before disappearing.

Pease, who had heretofore been silent, snorted. "A talking to indeed. I'd like to give him a little more than that, but it's not my place to do such things. He knows better than to interrupt, but he does it anyways because he's always been an impetuous thing. You must keep him in check, Milady, before he gets himself into trouble he can't get back out of. What if he were to interrupt the High Queen?" She gasped and paled, "Aleann would have his guts for garters if she didn't die of mortification first, and heaven only knows what the High Queen would do!"

"Oh well. It's his business and no one else's. Stand, miss, and let's see you."

Sarah stood obediently and turned slowly at Pease's command. The goblinette clucked and shook her head. "You look stunning, Milady, but I'm afraid you're missing something and I can't quite think of what it… Aha!" Sarah watched as the goblinette scurried to the huge wooden trunk at the base of her bed and snapped open the lid. Feathers of every different size, length and color imaginable rested neatly on the bottom while various clips to hold them rested in a shallow, removable tray.

Pease smiled mischievously at Sarah before selecting one of the smaller gold clips and sifting through the colorful contents of the chest. She emerged a minute later holding a handful of feathers that were about a foot long, though relatively short compared to some of the plumes taking residence at the bottom of the trunk.

"I must admit, Milady, you did right when you took Miss Raven along with you to shop for these things. She is an excellent judge, and she knew exactly what to get." She soon turned to show Sarah her fan.

The feathers were soft, waving tendrils – more like palm fronds than plumes. They were cream feathers that darkened slightly to a light blue at their tips, and matched her outfit flawlessly – a perfection she'd come to expect from such a magical place. However, something about the arrangement nagged at her. "Pease, am I to understand that you are advertising me as married, or did I simply misunderstand Raven yesterday?"

The goblinette gave her another mischievous smile and waved the feathers at her. "No, miss, you're right, two colors advertise marriage. But that's only when each individual feather is a different color. This fan says that you are promised, and because of the coloring, it says you're promised to Jareth's kingdom, not to Jareth himself."

"So what, they'll think that I am engaged to Jareth's whole kingdom?"

"No, no, miss, nothing like that. Think of it as a show of support. You are saying to those ladies that you are loyal to His Majesty's kingdom no matter what, and that they should not try to sway you to theirs. It's quite clever, if you think about it. It makes them think twice about sizing you up as a potential wife for their various sons and brothers and cousins and encourages them to look at you for what you are. Not to say that they won't do it anyways, because that's who they are."

"Oh. I see." She took the fan and held it up to study it. "How exactly am I supposed to keep from losing this thing when I'm not holding it?"

Pease took the fan from her and used the chain to clip it to a previously unnoticed loop on her pants. "For the most part, I can suggest that if you're going to use it, take it out only in a large group of people where there are more males than there are females, and most of the company is gentle-bred. Women will think you're pretentious if you make a point of showing off your colors. Also, if you find yourself in a company of all females, you want to make a point of addressing yourself to the group as a whole. It's considered bad breeding if you single out one person when there are others around.

There was a brisk knocking at her door, and before Sarah could utter a word, Jareth strode in, very elegantly dressed in sober grey and deep black. His unruly hair stuck out at odd angles and his changeling eyes sparkled in the sunlight.

"Are you ready to go, Sarah, or do I need to exit and wait for you to receive me?"

Sarah heard Pease snort softly behind her and laughed. "No, I think just this once I can forgive you, but don't ever let it happen again."

"Never!" He exclaimed and he held his arm out for her to take. She tucked her hand into his elbow and they left the room.

"So where are we going today, Your Highness?"

Jareth laughed and swept her up in a light embrace, kissing her forehead and then her lips, both oh-so-gently. "I am never 'Your Highness' to you, Sarah. I am merely Jareth." He looked deep into her eyes for a second longer before continuing toward the courtyard. "We are going to go riding today, so we can find you the niche in Fae society that you so desire. Our first stop is even in the castle – We're going to see Siri, who is my Chamberlain. She oversees all social functions here in the Goblin Kingdom as well as handles the lodging and feeding of any guests that I might have at the moment. She also supervises stocking of all supplies that the castle needs. During wartime, she is in charge of supply lines, gearing and outfitting our troops, and locating some way to keep them all warm and sheltered. She has quite a lot on her plate, in case you hadn't noticed. She employs a staff of anywhere from twenty-five to fifty depending on what time of year it is. In addition to this, she is a fairly good swordswoman and somehow manages to find an extra hour every day to practice. I, for one, admire her."

"She sounds like quite the woman," Sarah replied, stopping with Jareth in front of a large wooden door. Angry shouts issued from behind it, interspersed with what sounded like failing attempts at pacification, and Sarah turned to Jareth with a half-confused, half-scared look.

Jareth sounded apologetic as he pulled her back a few steps. "I'm afraid Siri has been having a few problems with some of our new cloth and textile merchants. We lost our previous supplier when he died of a heart attack and his three sons drank the business into the ground. Apparently, these new bloody sheep haven't understood the message yet."

Just then the door slammed open and a cringing, middle-aged man practically ran out, buffeted with colorful scraps of material. "I said no! Absolutely not! I don't know just what kind of fool you think I am, exactly, but you're sadly mistaken! Do you see this?" A piece of thin, red cloth was thrust out of the door and into the nervously shaking hands of the merchant. "This is useless! It would snap under the slightest pressure! I wouldn't let my cat toy with such useless rubbish! Take this worthless bundle of **_strings_** and yourself and get out of here before I call the guard. And don't bother coming back."

Sarah was astounded as a very short, slightly rotund, chestnut-haired woman stepped out of the door and dusted her hands off. "Good riddance!" She shouted at the back of the retreating person, before turning to Jareth with a wide smile. "What can I do for you and your Ladyship, majesty?"

"Well, Siri, we were just coming to see you. Sarah here is looking for a little something to occupy her idle hours in the castle, so I thought I would give her the grand tour and see if she found anything of interest."

"Sarah, eh?" Siri looked her up and down before lifting off the ground on stubby wings Sarah hadn't noticed before and staring deep into her eyes. "Wouldn't this one be better off knitting or playing shuffleboard? We're all for hard labor around here, missy." She returned to the ground and Sarah tried her best to look calm and dignified, while inside, her heart thundered in shock.

"She has more fire in her than you're giving her credit for, Siri. Just show us around, would you?" Jareth asked, placing a hand gently on Sarah's arm. In her head, he whispered, _The old pixie's still got quite a bit of fire in her, eh? It actually puts us at an advantage because no man in his right mind would try to lie to her or cheat her out of anything. Don't let her fool you, though: underneath all of that rough and rowdy exterior, she's quite the softy._

"Pardon, your Highness? I didn't hear you." Siri turned to them with a raised eyebrow and a shrewd glare in her brown eye.

"Nothing, Siri. I didn't say anything. Please, let us go now."

"Your wish is my command. Follow me, lady and gentleman, and watch your step." She led the way into a spacious, well-ordered reception room of sorts. The wall was lined with stiff, uncomfortable-looking benches and chairs all the way down to the other end, where a prim-looking Fae sat writing very slowly at a huge desk. To her right was a thick door made of heavy, solid wood. They continued walking, Sarah's hand tucked snugly in Jareth's elbow, and stopped at the desk. Siri indicated that they should turn and look up. Above them, the ceiling seemed to stretch out into infinity, ending in shadows. "This is our receiving hall, where all those who would do business with the Kingdom must wait. Each visitor is registered at the desk, is ranked according to his arrival and the importance of his business, and then takes a seat to wait his turn."

Sarah looked down the long aisle of chairs and thought how intimidating it would be to walk past all those cold eyes to the desk, and then back to an empty chair. This woman or someone on her staff had devised some rather cunning scare tactics.

"You're lucky it's so empty, Milady. We give them a break about this time of morning so they can eat something and gather their flagging courage before returning. In about an hour this whole room will be full of over-dressed merchants, and all of them will be sweating underneath their stiff collars." She chuckled and winked at them.

This woman has many hidden facets, Sarah thought as she followed Siri through a large mahogany door, she must cultivate the loud, bawdy image to intimidate her victims. This room seemed close, dark, and rather scary – devoid of all decoration save a plain desk and three chairs – a tall, richly-upholstered one facing them and the other two rather barbarous looking ones with their backs to the group. "This is where I personally do business. Each visitor is lead in here and makes his proposal." She yet again wondered at the strategy of this woman in her dealings.

They were quickly led out the back through a small, unobtrusive door and onto a breezeway overlooking one of the palace gardens. "We keep the rest of our work out here beyond the main office so the noise and bustle don't disturb our visitors. Just through here is where the real effort takes place." They were led out of the warm, late summer air and into an enormous building. Sarah found herself in what looked like a huge, very cramped, incredibly messy office. It was, however, brightly lit, and Sarah blinked the brilliance out of her eyes while several creatures worked diligently at make-shift desks, some at more permanent establishments, and others still wandered from station to station, delivering documents. This bustling environment was populated by a diverse mixture of creatures, from winged pixies to short goblins, speckled here and there with fauns, and several other pretty creatures she couldn't identify. To her left, a young pixie girl looked up at her through huge green eyes before turning to her goblin neighbor with an inquisitive look. By way of reply, the goblinette applied herself even more thoroughly to her work, not so much as glancing up from the two pieces of paper she was obviously proofing.

"This is our command center, if you will. At least one quarter of my staff is on duty in here at all times, and during the spring and fall months, an extra ten are installed to make sure that his Highness's social life doesn't get ahead of us. Here we copy, proofread, and file all documents pertaining to the kingdom's financial status, business transactions, current alliances, et cetera. We also handle orders from all kingdom districts as well as the castle needs. The girls here have been selected for their excellent penmanship, attention to detail and orderliness. Just through here," she indicated an open exit into a much smaller room, "is where we keep the originals to all of his Majesty's papers." As Siri said this, the pixie that had stared at her as she entered buzzed past her with an armful of various items, which she stored in a huge drawer before coming back. Bowing gracefully in midair, she whispered, "Your Majesty, Your Ladyship" before flying back to her station. As they turned continue their excursion, a burst of high-pitched giggling followed them.

Through the final door was a cavernous room, filled with bustling and noise. It was a delivery and receiving room from the looks of it – long caravans were being relieved of their goods, which were then run through a thorough if quick inspection and sent through various doors into others parts of the building, where they were no doubt sorted and delivered to their assorted destinations. Likewise, loads of diverse goods were brought and loaded onto the departing caravans. "I'm afraid this is the end of our tour, Milady – what you see here is the job that employs the rest of my staff. This is where we receive all goods from the castle and ship out everything that must leave. Anything brought in is run through a meticulous inspection aided by carefully prepared and specific checklists before being sent to their individual arenas – for example, cloth is sent over there and foodstuffs here. Anyone working here must be methodical, precise, and not without a certain amount of muscle. It is imperative that all items arriving at and departing the castle are what should arrive and depart. After things leave this warehouse, they're out of my hands and into the hands of the castle steward – Ignacio – and his staff. And I'm truly sorry, but that's all there is to see." She shrugged. "Notice anything interesting, Your Ladyship?"

Sarah opened her mouth to reply, but no words came out. After a moment, she managed to stammer, "I-I… Well, this is the first place we've been. Can we perhaps see some other things before I answer that?"

"Suit yourself. If you'll excuse me Your Highness, I have things I must attend to." She bowed to Jareth and buzzed away, barking orders at any slackers she came upon.

Jareth led Sarah through all the bustle and out a small side door into the main courtyard. "She doesn't think you're capable of doing it, you know. To her, you're just another dainty court lady, not suited for anything more stressful than a light game of Fae polo and a picnic lunch before needing a long nap. I don't think it really matters, however, because you didn't really seem suited to anything she showed you, nor did you seem terribly interested, either."

Sarah laughed, a little embarrassed, "I'm afraid you're right. It reminded me too much of my dad's office building with its cubicles and secretaries. All it needed to complete it were constantly buzzing phones and a nasal voice repeatedly saying 'Goblin Kingdom, this is Siri's office, how may I help you?' I never liked those people – they were all so snobbish."

"Well, I suppose that worked out fine then! I will introduce you to Ignacio later, but we have much more to see and I wouldn't dream of allowing you to consider for the briefest moment becoming a kitchen menial or something like that. You're much too pretty to be wasted anywhere but in the most prominent positions." He kissed her lips gently and led her to the stable where their horses were already saddled and ready to go. Sarah's fiery mountain of a horse dwarfed Jareth's stallion, which was a much lighter shade of auburn, much as a sun dwarfs a distant star. Neither creature seemed to like the other over much, and it took four stable hands just to keep Vell Fea Seldar from trampling the smaller Arabian mount.

"What is that monster!" Jareth exclaimed, staring wide-eyed at it.

"I warned you Jareth, but you just scoffed. You didn't believe me. And now you see what Dondre says is matched to me."

The only sign that the Goblin King was in the least afraid was the slightly ashen tone of his skin, but he strode steadily and almost confidently to his own mount, which was fighting to free itself and attack its challenger. "Aikanaro, enough!" Jareth said in his most commanding voice, and the horse immediately calmed, dipping his head in apology.

Sarah, delighted at having surprised the seemingly stoic Jareth, walked calmly to her horse. Petting its oddly-colored mane, she whispered gently in his ear. He butted his enormous nose against her and lipped gently at her lapel. "Oh, don't do that!" she laughed, and pushed at him playfully. The Goblin King watched the exchange from atop his own steed and grinned to himself as she mounted gracefully.

"Are you ready to go, Sarah?"

"Yes," she replied, and kicked her horse into a trot next to Jareth, enjoying the rise and fall and the feel of rippled muscles working seamlessly beneath her. As they exited the castle gates, an evil voice whispered in the back of her mind, _The Nine_. Trying to sound as offhand as possible, she turned to Jareth and said, "Jareth, who or what are The Nine? I heard someone speaking about them this morning, and it rather piqued my curiosity."

"The Nine… It's kind of a complicated matter to explain, I'm afraid, because we really don't have a very good grasp of the idea ourselves. Basically, The Nine are the nine governing Gods of the Underground. Anything else I could tell you beyond that would be hearsay and speculation."

"Well tell me anyways. If I'm going to live here, I'll have to learn the legends, even those that are mostly rumor."

"Okay. Well, for the most part, The Nine aren't essentially Gods, but actually dwellers of the Underground with the potential to become Gods. Legend has it that when these nine Gods realize their fate and accept it, they will ascend to the Heavens and purify the Underground. Now here's where the tales start diverging. One of the main principles in the magic of the Underground is that of balance, and it's no different for our Gods. Unfortunately, how they are balanced depends on who you're talking to. One conjecture is that there are four 'good' Gods and four 'evil' Gods – though the aspects of the Underground that they govern are neither essentially 'good' nor 'evil' – with one neutral ruling God. Others speculate that the balance is within the people themselves before the transformation from mere individual to Supreme Being; that somehow they are faced with trials that force them to choose between a dark aspect of their personality and a light one. Others still believe that the balance is the fact that all of The Nine are neutral, having both positive and negative aspects, as each of their governed elements does. I even heard one scholar surmise that perhaps the balance referred to gender: that there would be four women and four men with an omnipotent, genderless leader. I believe that we shall never know until they choose to reveal themselves to us, and even then we may not be truly able to understand."

"What are their 'elements'? I thought there were only fire, wind, water, and earth."

"Not elements in that sense. Maybe that was the wrong word to use. I don't think there is a word for it. The Nine each control a certain aspect of Underground life, and none of them are your conventional Aboveground ideas of things-to-be-governed-by-a-deity, either. There is Moon, Firmament, Song, Storm, War, Passion, Law, Change, and Fortune. Any or all of those might be male, female, or some crazy mix of both, and as you can see, all of the areas named can either be benevolent or malevolent. There is no obvious division."

"Oh," Sarah replied as they continued down the road toward the town. It all sounded very fascinating to her, a mere mortal from Aboveground, but she didn't ask anymore questions and they rode in silence until they reached the Goblin City, where they reined in and walked their horses to a large building near the outskirts. Dismounting, Jareth helped Sarah off her own horse, enjoying the momentary press of her body against his.

"Now this, Sarah, is something more suited to your beauty and grace. Besides, this is the only true 'job' you'll find any other Fae at. Most of us are suited to and content to govern, which is why Fae rule in ten of the thirteen kingdoms, even though they only have one that 'belongs' to them. The lady Fae particularly love this place." Sarah glanced up, but all she saw was a blank wall with a single door at the bottom. "Royalty from all over the Underground have business here."

"After you, my lovely," he said, bowing her into the building. Sarah found herself in a long hallway, with doors leading off to the side intermittently. Soft music drifted on the air, though she couldn't identify any of the instruments or a definite tune.

"Balls are an integral part of all Fae life, Sarah. There's no denying it. We look forward to them more than you humans look forward to your holidays, or any other event for that matter. Many of the most prestigious are held in the late spring or early fall, which is why Siri must hire so many extras at that time. I'll be hosting at least four this coming fall, and I have invitations to over forty. Of course, since you are my guest, those invitations also extend to you, and I expect you to come to at least one."

"Um," Sarah replied, but couldn't come up with a suitable noncommittal answer, so she changed the subject instead: "what is this place, again, Jareth?"

He chuckled. "This would be the equivalent to an Aboveground party planning agency. Here they arrange and prepare for our most prominent get-togethers, as well as teach the fine art of dance to those poor individuals with two left feet. It is owned, run and managed by Fae, who do a damn good job, if I do say so myself. Come, let me show you."

He took her into a large room with smooth wooden floors. A quartet was playing lilting music in one corner, and twelve Fae were dancing what looked like a cotillion, twirling gracefully together before separating into groups of four and switching partners. A tall Fae lady watched the whole thing, tapping her feet with the measure of the music and studying the elegant waltz with hawk-like blue eyes. As the last note sounded, she clapped loudly for a few instants and then began stridently correcting any mistakes she noticed.

"Wynna, that was absolutely dreadful. You went to the wrong group and completely bungled the order of the whole. Remember ladies and gentlemen: a dance is like a painting – one false move, one careless brushstroke, and your whole canvas will have been destroyed. And Reid – when you take your partner's hand don't grasp it! You should be a rock to support her, like this." She fisted her hand and offered it to Wynna, who placed hers lightly on top, glad to have positive attention on herself for once. "Again, everyone."

Promptly, the music started over and the dancers took their positions at the center of the floor. Jareth and Sarah skirted the cluster of students and eventually made their way over to where the instructor stood. "Dehlia," Jareth said, taking her proffered hand and kissing it gently. "It's a pleasure as always. Sarah, this is Dehlia, my cousin, though you couldn't tell it to look at her because she's so much prettier than I am." Sarah didn't see any resemblance either. The woman was gaunt and overly tall with long, chestnut hair drawn into a rather severe bun and sharp, cold blue eyes. Her nose even looked a little like a hawk's beak.

"Jareth, the shameless flatterer, though to no avail. I will always be a better dancer than you, dear cousin. It's a pleasure to meet you, Sarah." Dehlia hadn't taken her eyes from the fluidly moving dancers the whole time, though she held her hand out in Sarah's general direction.

"Sarah… That's a human name, is it not?" A quick glance from the corner of her eye belied the curiosity Dehlia masked so well in her professional voice.

"Yes. Yes it is. And seeing that I'm human, it might make sense that I had a human name." Sarah felt Jareth's hand tighten slightly around hers and knew that he didn't approve, but she was getting very angry with the people who kept giving her sidelong looks. The goblin servants in the castle had even had the gall to openly stare at her as she walked the corridors. She was rather starting to feel like an animal in a zoo, and suffered the need to assert herself.

"That would make sense, wouldn't it? Wynna! Pick up your feet!" Dehlia masked her chagrin by chastising the hopelessly lost Wynna, who had yet again gone the wrong way and was now crying in the center of the floor.

"Oh, dear, stop the music!" The tall woman seemed to float to where the crying girl stood and comforted her much as a mother would soothe a crying child. "Hush now. It's okay, you'll get it eventually. It just takes practice… Shh… That's right…" Gradually the sobbing ceased, and sniffling, Wynna took her place and prepared to start over again.

"What can I do for you, Jareth? As you can see, I'm kind of busy."

"I was showing Sarah around. She was looking for something to occupy her time, and so I thought I could give her the grand tour. What do you think, Sarah? Couldn't you do this as well as any of these Fae here?"

Sarah blushed and became aware that Dehlia was now openly sizing her up. "Do you even know how to dance, **_Sarah_**?"

Feeling like an animal under observation again, Sarah sensed her anger flare up, but it was nothing but a candle flame compared to Jareth's rage, which radiated from his every pore. Before he could explode, which he was bound to do, she butted in. "I'm afraid she's right, Jareth. No, I can't dance to this music. If you were to put on some Jay-Z or something with a nice beat, I could show you how **_humans_** dance. We haven't done the cotillion in over a hundred years. I'm sure, however, that given the opportunity, I could learn it quickly." From his grip on her hand, the Goblin King was still furious, but he now had that fire under control.

"Thank you, Dehlia. I shall be sure to contact you later should I need your services." With that, they both turned and strode quickly for the door. Outside in the corridor, Jareth stopped and took a deep, calming breath. "I apologize for her, Sarah. She may be a rather harsh, direct person by nature, but she had no right to treat you that way. I don't know what's gotten into people around here – they've become so hostile recently. Perhaps it's this business with Darius. Whatever it is, it's still no excuse. Come, let's go see what else there is to be seen." He offered her his arm and they continued down the hallway.

The next room they entered looked like a drawing room – a large table in the center was covered with blueprints and sketches while various people worked on their own little projects in a designated area. In a back corner, one woman patiently matched and arranged flowers into tiny bouquets, lining each one up against the wall and comparing them as she went while in another corner a man scrutinized two different shades of dark red fabric under a bright light. And older gentleman with silvered hair glanced up from his sketch of a stately man in full costume and grinned. "Jareth! It's been far too long! How have you been, old chap?"

He leaned heavily on an elegantly carved cane and limped slightly as he approached. "You've been cooped up in that castle with those musty old diplomats for too long, Jareth. You need to just burn his kingdom down and be done with it!"

Jareth laughed and patted him on the back. "It's not as if I haven't wanted to since this whole mess started, old timer, but I'd have my father to answer to if I did."

"Yes, I understand. But it's a nice thought, eh? Did you know that fat little fool had the nerve to come in here and offer us everything but his life to plan a ball for him? Yes, basically told us to name our price. Of course I turned him away. I would rather see this place destitute and torn down than let customers like him in. It's just the thought that he believes himself so high and mighty to demand our service."

"Yes, I see. I'll have to look into that and see what else he has been doing in my kingdom. However, business first, Gevan – this is Sarah; Sarah, this is one of my oldest and dearest friends – Gevan."

The old gentleman took her hand in his large, leathery ones and kissed it, bending his head in supplication. Looking up after a second, he gave her a boyish wink. "I see Jareth hasn't lost his touch with the beautiful young ladies. If I were just a day younger, Milady, I would challenge this whippersnapper to a duel at dawn for such a fair and pretty hand as yours." Sarah blushed but quickly forgot her chagrin when she noticed that pale roses had blossomed on Jareth's usually fair cheeks. This detail hadn't escaped Gevan's attention either, and he pushed his advantage. "Oh no, Jareth. You said business first, not pleasure. Is this finally it? Will we be planning your wedding gala?"

Jareth's blush darkened from a soft rose to a deep wine red, though the fever quickly dissipated. The Goblin King cleared his throat a few times, looked everywhere but at the grey-haired man, and choked out, "No, Gevan, no. Sarah is looking for something to occupy her spare hours, and I'm showing her around. No marriage."

"That's a shame, Jareth. I wouldn't let this one get away if I were you – she seems like quite the catch. Anyways, Milady, I guess there isn't much to explain." As he took her arm and turned to show her what was going on, two young Fae – one boy and one girl and neither older than twelve in appearance – ran up, excitedly waving a piece of thick, heavy parchment.

"That's it, father, she's done it! Tesi's engaged at last! She writes to ask for your blessings on their union!"

"Well, that's some great news. Go tell mama, and I'll be along in a moment." The two excited children rushed away and Gevan turned to Jareth with misty blue eyes and a trembling smile. "That's the last of them, Jareth. I've just the two here left to me. It's so wonderful and so sad." The two men embraced as brothers and Sarah couldn't help but smile and wonder wistfully what life would have been like if her parents had loved her so completely. A crushing, nostalgic sadness threatened to overpower her and she felt her knees go weak. To stop herself from falling, she put a hand on the table and tried desperately to repress the tears in her eyes, cursing Pease for pulling her hair back instead of leaving it as a curtain. A gentle clearing of the throat made her glace up, the tears in her eyes making them shimmer like emeralds in the sunlight.

"Excuse me, miss, I don't mean to interrupt, but might I have that sketch before you cry all over it?" A beautiful Fae man looked at her half apologetically, glancing at the paper with concern. Sarah sniffed and dashed the tears from her eyes, laughing through her clenched throat.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. Here, before I do something else that might destroy it." She picked it up tenderly, careful not to smudge any of the wonderful inking, and studied it before handing it to him. "It's positively beautiful. I'm impressed."

The Fae, who didn't look any older than twenty, beamed. "Thank you very much. Oh, by the way, what were you here for? Is there something you'd like to order?"

"Oh, nothing of the sort," Sarah replied, "Jareth brought me here because I'm looking for something to keep me busy during the long hours of the day. He's been showing me around, and Gevan was about to tell me about this place when he got the news."

They both glanced over to where the Goblin King and his delighted friend were conversing animatedly, and her companion laughed. "It doesn't look like he'll get around to doing anything today, with news like that. Likely he'll go out tonight and celebrate and take the next month to go see her and arrange her wedding. How about I show you around while those two reminisce, or whatever it is they're doing. I'm Caine, by the way."

Sarah shook his hand, enjoying his firm, dry handshake, and replied, "Sarah."

"**_The_** Sarah? Well, not to be a gossip, but I have heard quite a lot about you, Sarah."

"You have, have you? What could you possibly have heard about me?" Sarah absentmindedly sifted through the sketches on the table, stopping to admire some openly, but in actuality she was all ears.

"Only that you are an incredible, fiery beauty and happen to be the fair maiden that has finally won the Goblin King's allegedly unachievable heart and his considerable kingdom." He paused for some confirmation, but Sarah only exclaimed over a particularly detailed drawing of a ballroom in all its splendor. "It's also said that you are human…" He paused before rushing ahead, "and with a name like that it really does seem like you are." He stopped to draw a breath before continuing calmly, "But now that I have met you I see that they are completely wrong. There's no way you're human."

Sarah grinned and considered correcting him, but thought better of it and instead said, "Well thank you. Now, to turn from idle gossip – why are all these wonderful drawings covering this table?"

"These are designs – incredibly detailed blueprints, if you will. Fae pay exorbitant amounts of money to have their balls top those of all the other Fae. Everything is left to us, and to make sure that every detail is perfect, we do drawings and sketches such as these so that when we start actually decorating there can be no mistake as to the placement and design of even the simplest details." At Sarah's bewildered expression, he laughed, "But don't fret – it isn't half as hard as it looks or sounds, and after a while you just get a feel for what works."

"And if drawing and meticulous detail aren't to your tastes, we have someone who works continually on matching and arranging flowers, and that person has a staff who replicates the chosen bouquets. We have someone who arranges for refreshments, someone who arranges for any and all kinds of cloth and fabrics, someone who makes the costumes of the various servants. And you mustn't forget our dance instructors," he started, but one look for Sarah and he abruptly stopped. "I take it you've met Dehlia."

"How did you guess?" Sarah asked sharply, unable to forget the overly direct woman.

"Dehlia's been short with just about everyone lately, and it's not really her fault. Her beau is a rather stupid fellow, if he does mean well, and she has been frustrated for a while now because she wants to marry and he doesn't get it. She tends to be worse with other women, however, for obvious reasons, and to see her cousin so happy and in such pleasant company must have just driven her mad with jealousy." He gave her an impish smile not unlike Gevan's. "I bet poor Wynna got it from her, didn't she?"

Sarah tried hard not to smile, failed, and laughingly answered, "The poor thing burst out crying and Dehlia had to stop the music to comfort her. Though, I don't think all of that is to do with a strict instructor. She's completely lost, isn't she?"

Caine nodded empathetically. "Yes, yes she is. And it's not that she couldn't dance if she put her mind to it, it's just that she's so nervous that she forgets what she's doing. This is her year to come into society, and she's 'fresh off the farm,' to coin a human phrase. Her parents are hoping to marry her quickly to a second or third son of a lesser noble and get her off their hands. They really have no hopes for the girl. Her older sister, however, is quite the beauty, and it's rumored that she is to snare the eldest son of one of the wealthiest merchants in the Underground. This is all hearsay, of course, and not a whit of it can be proved, but I bet that by winter she's got herself a rich husband and a child on the way."

Sarah took this in silently, thinking how awful it must be for Wynna to live in the shadow of her precocious older sister. Should she decide to go to one of Jareth's balls, she would certainly treat the girl kindly.

"Of course, that she might marry at all just excites Dehlia to no end, and all that yelling makes her nervous, so I'd say she stands no chance, and she shouldn't bother dancing period." Slyly sidling closer, he whispered warmly in her ear, "Speaking of dances, Sarah, may I presume to claim one of yours the first ball we attend together?"

Sarah balked before stammering an "I guess." Then she cursed herself for agreeing – it meant she would have to attend at least one of the highly social events.

As Caine was about to reply, Jareth spotted them talking so closely and, jealous, walked over to clap Caine on the shoulder. "Caine, how have you been? I haven't seen you in what seems like eternity!"

"I've been positively magnificent, Jareth. And you?" Caine replied coolly, amber eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly.

"I would say excellent but for this whole mess with Darius. Say, whatever happened between you and that girl you were seen leaving my ball with last spring?"

"Nothing Jareth. I took her home and then went home myself. In case you hadn't heard, she's engaged to Dondre, and they're to be wed mid-winter."

"Ah. I'll have to congratulate him when next we meet. And what were you two talking about so secretly over here?"

Sarah, a little angry at Jareth's possessiveness, jumped in to save Caine by saying, "We were just talking about Dehlia, and why she's… like she was to us."

Jareth's expression instantly changed to one of curiosity, and then he laughed. "Is it her beau? Is he at it again?"

"I'm afraid so," Caine replied with a laugh.

"So, Sarah, has young Caine shown you anything you'd be interested in trying your hand at?"

She thought a minute before replying, "Well, actually, yes he has. I would like to see all of my other options before making a decision, but I rather think I would like it here."

"Perfect! But I'm afraid we must take our leave, for we still have much to see and such little time to see it. Goodbye one and all, and congratulations, Gevan."

Loud shouts of farewell echoed down the hallway after them as they stepped out into the brilliant noon sun. Aikanaro and Vell Fea Seldar were waiting placidly for them, each decidedly ignoring the other. When the two exited, they both perked up and trotted closer, their animosity forgotten, at least for the moment. Mounted, the couple rode out of the city and into the rolling hills and farmsteads surrounding it in comfortable silence. Soon even the farms had thinned out, until only one or two comfortable-looking cottages peeped at them from behind tall trees. Sarah breathed in the fresh air and found herself thinking how truly impossible it was that she was **_here_**, and riding her very own horse next to her former arch-nemesis, who she now found herself falling in love with. Somehow, it all felt so right. She didn't want to question it, only savor the moment and hope that it never ended.

"I'm sorry Sarah, but I must make a stop before we reach our next destination. I do hope you don't mind." Jareth's melodious voice broke in on her reverie, and she turned to him with a smile.

"That's okay, Jareth. I'm just enjoying being out here in the Underground."

"Wonderful! We should be coming into view any moment." As he said that, they crested a hill that looked down on a tall, turreted stone structure. "These are our reserve barracks, Sarah. Here is where our full-time soldiers stay and train should a war happen to break out. We've been getting quite a few new recruits lately due to this whole mess with Darius, and I've been meaning to come and inspect them for a while. You're sure don't mind?"

"Nope! I don't mind at all! I'm kind of excited to see a swordfight. I've never seen a real one before!"

"Well, I guess I'll have to arrange that for you sometime." He kicked his horse into an open gallop and Sarah quickly followed.

The gates rose swiftly as they approached, and they rode inside in fine style. They came directly into a courtyard where several men were sparring back and forth, sweat covering their bare, well-muscled chests. There was a loud crack and a huge red welt appeared on the upper arm of one of the opponents while his enemy stood over him, smirking; the winner's sword casting a brilliant flash of light on the ground. Cheers erupted from the crowd, which rushed the triumphant man and patted him on the back, while a few stayed behind to help the injured man to his feet.

Jareth – having watched all of this silently and unnoticed from the back of the raucous crowd – clapped loudly and spoke up, his lordly voice echoing about the courtyard. "Well done, men! Splendid!"

Instantly the previously relaxed militiamen snapped to attention, scrambling to take their places in well-ordered ranks stretching across the courtyard. A few of the younger men stared open-mouthed at their King, but their officers soon had them moving double time as well, and within a few seconds endless lines of bare-chested soldiers stood before them. A lone man stood out from the crowd, his silvered hair shimmering in the bright afternoon sunlight. "My liege," he said, his eyes staring straight forward, "your men are ready to serve you."

Jareth smiled, though it was not the little boy's grin that Sarah knew, but a cool, kingly smirk. "Excellent Robyn. Your command is impeccable, as usual. Tell me what I need to know, and quickly, for my lady and I have other plans." He turned to look at Sarah, apology touching his eyes but never reaching his stony face.

Robyn, obviously the commander, dismissed his troops to eat, but as they turned to leave, he called one of his soldiers back. A tall, lanky, fiery-headed youth jogged up to where the trio stood, his calm features unable to mask the worry in his eyes.

"Sir?" He asked, glancing from Robyn to Jareth and back again.

"Gawaine, this is Lady Sarah. She is here accompanying his highness. Please, show her around while I talk business with his Majesty."

The boy gave a salute of obedience and turned to Sarah as the men walked away, relief radiating from his every pore. He gave her a stately bow and smiled, "Gawaine, Milady, at your service." He made as if to offer her his arm, but finding that it was sweaty and rather dirty, put it behind his back quickly. "Uh, please, follow me this way."

Sarah, instantly put at ease by this gangly boy, laughed and walked by his side, listening to his quick explanations and humorous anecdotes intently. He pointed out the surly-looking cook standing over his pot of stew much like a miser stands over his gold, and told her that he had previously been head chef at the castle until his unnerving obsession with mouse-killing got him demoted to cook-in-residence at the barracks. He told stories of the heroic and battle-scarred of the troops: how one man had lost his arm in an attempt to save three of his comrades and how another had single-handedly held off twenty soldiers until help had arrived. He gave a grim account of vermin-infested barracks and checking his sheets each night for lice. He made an effort to point out the few women that had joined ranks, one and all of them practicing grimly with sword and bow and bare hands. With each encouraging laugh from Sarah he warmed to his topic, until very soon they were laughing like childhood friends sharing a private joke. As they began their second circuit through the base, Gawaine turned to her with a brilliant smile and asked, "Would you like to try your hand at archery, Milady?"

Before she could reply he blushed bashfully and continued, "I'm sorry Miss. I know that such dirty and tiring pursuits are beyond a lady such as yourself. Forgive me for my impudence, I momentarily forgot myself."

In reply, she laughed and led to way to the archery targets, tossing over her shoulder as she went, "I don't know what kind of ladies you're used to, but I think a little exercise would do me good."

"Very well then," he replied as he picked up a practice bow and strung it, "here you are." He handed her the bow and a slightly bedraggled arrow. "You simply knock the arrow into place, like so." He demonstrated on another bow and she mimicked his actions. "Now you pull back as hard as you can, steady your arm, aim and let fly." Suiting actions to words, he shot the arrow and it hit right outside the center of the target. "I'm a little rusty. Now, you try."

She did as she was commanded, pulling back on the arrow with all her strength, squinting her eyes to sight, and attempting to steady the trembling in her muscles from the exertion. "Like this?" she asked through gritted teeth. At a nod from him, she closed her eyes and let go of the string. She heard the arrow hit not too far away from her, and opened her eyes slightly.

What she saw was an incredible disappointment. The arrow had sailed nicely for a few yards and then hit the ground well before its intended target. She glanced over at Gawaine, whose face was schooled to a stoic calm, and growled. "Let me try that again, please." He nodded and handed her another arrow.

This time, she channeled her anger at such a pathetic failure into her arms. She drew back on the string until she felt it would break, steadied herself, sighted, and let fly. She didn't close her eyes, but watched as the arrow sailed straight and true to the center of the target, sticking in the wood with a solid **_thunk_**. She gave a satisfied smile and turned to Gawaine, whose jaw hung slightly slack, unable to completely contain his amazement.

"I bet with a little practice, I could become pretty good at this thing!" she exclaimed. "Can I try it one more time?"

He walked forward and retrieved her first arrow, which lay on the ground. Taking it from him, she shot again. This time its flight was not quite so strong or so steady, but it stuck in the wood just near the bottom of the target.

"Gawaine!" came an angry roar from the other side of the open courtyard. "How dare you force a Lady such as this to stoop to such menial tasks? What were you thinking!" The boy cringed and bowed his head in supplication. Sarah couldn't help herself, and jumped in to save him.

"It was my idea, sir. He was telling me about some of the women at the base and I was anxious to see if I could be as tough as they. I'm not quite there yet," she indicated the target with a smile, "But with a little practice I think I could do very well."

The Commander blushed, mortified.

"Well Robyn, I think that shall be all I require of you for now. Sarah, are you ready?" He offered his arm to her, and she took it, winking at Gawaine as she did so.

"Thank you for that wonderful tour, good sir." The boy blushed cherry red to the roots of his hair, and she couldn't help discovering the unflattering truth – that he looked suspiciously like a tomato.

The Goblin King assisted Sarah in mounting, mounted himself, and they rode through the gates, their horses eager to be on the road again. They had ridden in silence for about a mile when Sarah turned to Jareth.

"Jareth," she said softly, not wanting to startle him, "there is something I want more than anything else in the world right now."

He turned to her, his eyes bright as he prepared to hear a request for a fur coat or gold necklace. He was slightly surprised, however. Not that he wouldn't go to the ends of the Underground to retrieve it for her, but that he had thought her above such materialistic wishes.

"I want a Fae name. I know I haven't lived here for very long, but I feel like I belong to this place. Sarah as a human doesn't fit in here."

Jareth's brows furrowed as he thought about it. After a few moments of silence, he turned to her with a slight shake of his head. "I'm afraid that's the only wish I can't grant, Sarah. I could not live with myself if you had to be something other than you are just to fit in. What you are, **_who_** you are is enough. No false name will make you more or less acceptable. Just be yourself, and in time this world will come to love you as one of its own." He put a hand out to her, and she grasped it, though she wasn't happy.

Their ride continued for an hour more, both of them silent and comfortably holding hands and Sarah felt inspired to compose a poem. Cursing the fact that she had not a pen or a piece of paper, she began to plan it out, whispering it to herself as they went along.

Eventually a castle began to rise from the horizon, white marble and beautiful red flowers as far as the eye could see. "I feel it my duty to tell you that in all possibility you will be thrust into a group of Fae socialites here. I am making a call on a friend of mine whose numerous sisters are all quite the debutantes. I assume Raven has made an attempt at schooling you in etiquette?"

Sarah nodded, trying to remember Pease's advice from the morning, her poem forgotten.

Inside, Jareth was led away by a small footman and Sarah was ushered forward into a large drawing room filled with Fae. Most of the ladies were clad in elegant dresses while a few had more functional riding habits on, and the men wore shades of green, grey and brown. Every eye in the room turned to her as she entered, though the women soon regained their senses enough to hide curious stares behind fans of every color and length imaginable.

She began to understand just what a deer in the headlights felt like as one of the Fae stood and approached her. She was rather short with brown hair the color of deep, dark chocolate and amber eyes. Her heart-shaped face broke into a warm, welcoming smile that didn't reach her eyes as she approached. "Greetings and welcome, Sarah," she said as she dismissed the goblin footman that had announced her. "You must be exhausted after such a long, tiring ride. I'm Jade."

"Hello Jade," Sarah replied, matching her smile to Jade's cool one. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Do come in. Join my sisters and me. We were **_just_** discussing when you might visit." She escorted Sarah to a chair where four other women sat, but she could not shield her from several exchanged glances around the room, all of which said that while Sarah may very well have been their topic, when she would visit wasn't.

As Sarah sat, a goblinette poured tea and all five women – all very different in appearance – gave her the self-same cold smile and it was obvious that they were sisters. In addition to Jade, there was Garnet, Onyx, Amber and Amethyst. They all had very soft, honeyed voices that sounded more the result of years of practice than the result of any gentleness of character and a predatory glint in their eyes, much like starving wolves sighting prey for the first time in days.

"So tell me, Sarah," Amethyst cooed, "did Jareth accompany you or are you finally out making the social rounds?"

"Jareth is here with me. I'm afraid we can't stay very long; we have several calls to make in addition to this one, and time is short."

A very fake pout creased Onyx's perfectly smooth, tan features as she replied, "What a shame! We were hoping you would come hawking with us later. Surely if you asked his majesty he would be more than happy to oblige a favorite such as yourself. You are perfectly dressed and I know that my brother would not hesitate to loan you one of his hawks."

"A splendid idea!" Garnet exclaimed, twirling a loosely curled blonde lock around her pale finger. "Do say you'll come with us!"

Before Sarah could reply a tallish, rather severe looking Fae woman strode over, her dress in tones of rich scarlet, her fan in a matching shade and white. This woman is either married or engaged, Sarah thought to herself.

"Lady Sarah, I've heard so much about you! All good things, let me assure you." She flirted her eyelashes at Sarah, and the human couldn't be sure, but she thought she winked. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person. How are you?"

"I'm splendid," Sarah replied, matching the woman's slightly loud, false tones. "In fact, these fine ladies just invited me to go hawking, and I was about to regrettably inform them that King Jareth and I must truly be leaving soon or we will be late for other appointments."

"Oh, I see," she said, sizing up all five women, her front dissolving to reveal a calculating and slightly reproving stare. "Well, they seem to have a monopoly on you that I must break I'm afraid. You see, there are all these people just dying to meet you and they can't steal a moment of your time with you just sitting here. Do, come, let me introduce you."

Sarah stood up and the woman took her arm, putting slight pressure on it. As they strode away, her companion bent close to her ear and whispered, "Just keep walking, dearie, and don't look back. I'm sure you'll see them sharpening their pitchforks if you do. You've just escaped the den of all things horrible, now come socialize with me. I'm Amara, by the way. I'm engaged to the Mer King, in case you needed to know."

Sarah just smiled her gratitude, and let herself be led about, flirting when it was necessary, exchanging polite conversation, and alternately raging at Jareth in her mind and wishing him beside her for support. Amara was quite her savior, and by the time Jareth had returned to make some polite conversation and announce their leave-taking, the two had become quite good friends. So good, in fact, that Amara, instead of one of the sisters, walked them to their horses.

"I'm throwing a ball in a week's time, Sarah, the first of the season. I do hope you'll be so good as to attend?" She winked at her and indicated Jareth with a slight toss of her head. Leaning close, she whispered confidentially, "He needs to get out more often. I don't think he attended more than three balls last season. Besides, he seems to rather like you." She grinned. "Now, do have a nice, safe journey and feel free to call on me anytime!"

Jareth assisted Sarah in mounting before climbing aboard his own stallion and they were off, racing down the road for a way before slowing to a speed much more convenient for talking.

"So how did you like your first taste of society, Sarah? I want to apologize for leaving you alone for so long, but I simply couldn't get away."

"Oh, it was alright. I felt like smothering all five of his sisters, but Amara was a delight, and I met some very interesting people." She winked at him. "At the rate I'm going, my dance card will be full for the whole season. I'm quite the hot commodity."

Jareth laughed good-naturedly, but could not hide the blush of jealousy. "I'm first on that card, aren't I?"

"You know, I haven't decided," Sarah taunted, "because technically Caine asked me first…" She trailed off and gauged his reaction before laughing. "Of course you're first! And second and third… Which reminds me, I'm gonna need some lessons if I'm to ever prove myself to Dehlia."

At that point Jareth did laugh. "I'll see what I can do about that."

They rode in companionable silence for a while, his thigh occasionally bumping against hers, before she spoke. "So where are we going now, Jareth?"

"Hm?" He asked, as if snapped out of a reverie. "Oh, we're going home. I'm sure you've seen enough of the Underground for a day. And didn't you decide that you would like to join Gevan's staff? Besides, I have several meetings this evening. I'm going to Darius myself with one last plea to stop this madness. If he doesn't, I'm washing my hands of the matter. I'll have my staff prepare for war and wait for his attack. This whole thing is ridiculous."

"Home…" Sarah whispered, enjoying the taste of the word in her mouth. "Oh, that's fine Jareth. Besides, I have plans with Ter this evening and I do need to get changed." At a look from Jareth, she quickly amended, "He's asked me to come meet his sister, Kitiara, and her husband."

"Oh, they're in town?"

"From what Ter told me, they're just passing through on their way north and asked him to meet them."

"I see."

The rest of their ride home was conducted in silence, Jareth alternating between jealousy and a brooding anger at his longtime friend. If it's competition he wants, he thought, it's competition he'll get. Sarah was also lost in thought, though she focused instead on the word home, and what it meant to her. She had liked it when Jareth called the castle home. The house Aboveground never crossed her mind.

TO BE CONTINUED… 

Okay, I have to cut this off now, because this chapter is just getting way longer than I expected, and there's really still no place to cut it off. I have more coming, though!


	6. Chapter 4 Part II: Here She Comes

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

AN Here's where the rating starts to come into play. Nothing too explicit. Just so you're warned.

**_CHAPTER 4:_** Here She Comes

I can taste you on my tongue

I can still feel what my hands have done

I got you on my mind

More than anything or anyone

And what we have is a connection

We got front row seats to each other's affection

You're such a thirsty rose

I can still see you when my eyes are closed

My love glows

When I'm with her

And she flows

Like a river

My love's every single song on the radio

My love's every pretty face on video

My love, my love

I'm seeing her in everyone

Here she comes

And when I don't know where you are

It's like I see you in  
Every passing car

I can see you in a crowd  
Or I can see you when I'm looking at the clouds

My love glows

When I'm with her

And she flows

Like a river

And she shines

And the stars

Look up to her

Yea she shines

And she

Shimmers

My love's every single song on the radio

My love's every pretty face on video

My love is a thousand pages of beauty

And here she comes

Low Millions Here She Comes

PART II 

By the time they reached the gates, the sun had sunk until it rested, low and heavy and far too large, near the peaks of the mountains to the east, like a deflating balloon sinking inevitably toward its demise on the perilously thorn-covered bushes below it. Already the light had grown slightly golden and thick, and she suspected that this sunset would be as beautiful and magical as the ones she remembered during those few all-too-brief family holidays she cherished from her childhood. If she closed her eyes she could feel the sultry summer heat, taste the briny ocean-side air and hear the crash of the waves from that period of unnatural happiness in her life. Eventually, as the flaming sphere continued its downward descent in the here and now, it would bathe the world in a rich golden light that leached the color from everything else in its brilliance. It would sprinkle its pixie-dust shimmer over the Underground until finally it lost its battle with gravity and the glitter humanity had briefly borrowed would be enshrouded by the mysteries only night can bring.

Once inside the courtyard she and Jareth both dismounted quickly. "I'm afraid I'm going to be absent for the next few days, Sarah. I have business to attend to with my father," a dark scowl crossed his boyish features, "that must not be postponed. Raven and Ter will be here to hold your attention, to show you around, and to help address any concerns you may have in my absence. I really must go now, but I wish you the best, and do have fun this evening. You'll like both Bran and Kitiara, I promise." He kissed her quickly on the forehead stroked her hair gently, and then went inside in a swirl of his long cloak.

Sarah stood there for a few brief moments, totally numb; not noticing the bustle around her as the stable goblins led her horse away and the castle went about its normal business. Then her brain registered the increasingly gilded appearance of the world around her, compliments of the fast-approaching sunset, and she too rushed inside, still needing to change.

In her room, Pease was already waiting, almost a tad impatiently, while Chak feasted in a corner on a dinner of smoked salmon and fresh milk, served in what appeared to be very expensive china. "Oh, Chak, I'm so sorry! I had completely forgotten about you! He has been a gentleman, I trust?" She asked, turning to Pease. She didn't know where the idea of a cat with a sense of chivalry and morality came from, but she could attribute almost any characteristics to this crazy-quilt beast with his jaunty tail, patchwork coverings and his knowing expression.

Quite to her surprise, instead of scoffing, Pease replied in a tone of gravity and acceptance. "Yes, he has miss, though he got a little saucy with me when he found out he wasn't allowed to dinner. As you can see, we reached a compromise."

At the mention of food, Sarah's stomach immediately growled and she realized belatedly that she hadn't eaten anything in quite a long while. Longer than she could remember, actually. She hoped that wherever she was going this evening served something decent, because she was famished. She glanced at Chak, who licked his chops at her almost mockingly.

"What should I wear this evening, Pease? I'll be going out with…"

Before she could finish, Pease stood and presented what she'd been holding. "Lord Ter came in after you left and explained the situation. He said he trusted me to advise you on what to wear, and this is what I've found." A black silk ensemble greeted her, its soft touch on her fingers making her want to purr contentedly along with her kitten. She quickly donned it, having easily learned to get over her chagrin at undressing in front of someone. It was one piece, with a plunging neckline leading to a ribbed and laced bodice and finishing with widely flared pants. She donned heeled, black silk boots to complete her outfit as Pease removed the braid from her hair. The goblinette then opened a tiny crystal bottle and Sarah faintly caught the scent of lavender. She poured a drop of liquid into the palm of her hand, recapped the bottle, and began to run her fingers through Sarah's hair.

Sarah closed her eyes in an indescribable ecstasy. When she had been a little girl, her birth mother had run her fingers gently through her hair right before she'd gone to sleep every night. Now, she experienced a sensation bordering on orgasmic whenever someone touched her hair. It was bliss. She opened her eyes to find Chak sitting a few steps away from her, his sapphire eyes staring, his kitten mouth pulled into a smug grin.

"What're you looking at me like that for?"

His only reply was to "Merow" curiously and inch closer, though he never touched her clothing, for which she was grateful.

When Pease had finished her ministrations, all the waves in Sarah's hair had gone, leaving it completely smooth and oh-so-shiny. Before Sarah could say anything, or even gather her thoughts, Pease approached her with some golden earrings. They were very fine, and worked into thin spirals. It was her only ornament.

She stood quickly and hugged Pease before the goblinette could protest. "Thank you for all you've done." She gave her a sisterly kiss on the cheek and was gone, Chak peering curiously out the door and down the corridor, his gaze following her black shape as it was highlighted by the gold of the setting sun streaming in through the windows. Pease sniffed, angrily dashing the tears from her eyes and told the cat "You can't go with her, darling. Come back in here and I'll pet you and you can have all the fish you want. I – I…" she choked on her tears, "I think you have the most wonderful mistress in all the world. And you are a most wonderful kitten to have been chosen by her." She scooped him up and cried on his soft fur. He purred in agreement.

Ter met her in the corridor on her way to the courtyard. He was dressed in a dark grey instead of his usual black, which brought out his mischievous eyes wonderfully. He never typically wore jewelry, but tonight he had donned a large gold signet ring and a single, tiny, gold hoop earring. He looks like a dashing pirate, she thought to herself as he took her arm. In the courtyard, he helped her mount her stallion, not in the least surprised at his size or temperament. He then climbed on his own smaller horse, which was doing its best to ignore the Vell Fea Seldar, and they were off.

They rode in companionable silence for what seemed like an eternity before Ter ventured conversation. "So Sarah, how was your day today? Did you enjoy the sights of the Goblin Kingdom?" A single black curl had sprung loose and hung in his face, despite his best attempts to tame it.

"Well, first Jareth took me down to see Siri, and we took a tour of her 'domain', if you will. She was very nice, but a little aggressive, and I got the impression that she saw me as nothing more than a soft 'Lady of society' and didn't want me meddling. Besides, I had a secretarial job Aboveground – I didn't like it that much." She smiled at him as he fought a losing battle with his enemy – that single curl that seemed to become unruly whenever he was in the grip of a powerful emotion. She absently wondered what it was before continuing. "Then we rode into the Goblin City and we went into that place that plans social events. They never told me what it was called."

"The String Quartet," he said, sighing in defeat.

"Well, we stopped there, and I met Dehlia, who was rather cross, though from what they told me it wasn't really her fault." A sage nod from Ter showed that he understood. "And I also met Gevan, who's daughter," she struggled for the name before it came back to her, "Tesi has finally gotten engaged. So while he and Jareth talked, a Fae named Caine showed me around, and explained to me what makes Dehlia such an unhappy individual."

"Ah, Caine," he said. "You must watch him carefully, Sarah. He has aspirations toward greatness, which is altogether commendable, but he doesn't seem to care who he uses as a stepping-stone on his way to the top. The fourth son of a moderately subsisting merchant, he doesn't have much hope of marrying well. So he believes that by frequenting the best circles and playing his cards right, he'll make a match and finally claim the spotlight that often goes to his brothers. Altogether a good boy," Ter said, seeing Sarah's look, "but just a little misguided. Perhaps he believes that by ingratiating himself with you, he'll gain Jareth's ear, but I suppose that's immaterial. Continue."

"We left there and made a stop at the barracks. Jareth said he needed to make an inspection, I think. I was left in the care of a soldier name Gawaine, who is absolutely delightful. He let me try my hand at archery. I think with a little practice I could become quite proficient!" A light had turned on somewhere in the back of her mind, illuminating an idea that had been only a vague suggestion earlier – learning archery for real.

"Gawaine, Gawaine," he said, casting about for a face to put with the name. "Wait! Isn't he a pale, freckly, red-headed boy, looks like he just stumbled out of childhood?"

"That's one way to put it," Sarah replied.

"He'll be a good commander one day after he gets some experience and gets over that infernal bashfulness. He blushes if you so much as look at him, but he's got a good head. Jareth has him earmarked for Robyn's position, should be manage to prove himself before Robyn retires."

"That's good to hear. He seemed very competent. We left there and traveled to a castle, though I never learned the name of the owner. I can tell you he has a nest of vipers for sisters, though."

Ter raised an eyebrow slightly. "What were the sisters' names?"

Sarah though for a moment before replying, "I don't remember all of them. There were five, I think – Jade, Onyx and Amethyst are all I can clearly remember, though none of them seemed overly friendly."

Ter roared with laughter. "If I were you I would **_castrate_** Jareth when you return! Nest of dragons is more like it! Ha!" He chuckled some more before continuing. "Jade, Garnet, Onyx, Amber and Amethyst. Five of the most vicious women the world has ever created. They were a plague on society from the moment they were born. Cruel, horrid, awful gossips, all of them! You can guarantee right now their fangs are dripping acid all over your good reputation as we speak. Oh well, there's not much to be done about it. Their brother is Beyd, who is, by himself an altogether good Fae, though he avoids social functions like the plague. It is actually a rather funny story – when their parents died they left as a stipulation in the will that if any of the sisters married before their brother did, the whole estate would go to Beyd and all of them would be left without a cent. I'm firmly convinced that Beyd avoids society for fear of marrying. He doesn't want them spreading their venomous traits to children, I think."

"Yes, I can see where you'd get that idea. I never met Beyd, however. The sisters attempted to draw me into a conversation, but a woman named Amara saved me. Said she was engaged to the Mer King. She was incredibly friendly and informative."

Ter smiled at her. "You could do much worse than making friends with Amara. She **_is_** engaged to the Mer King – the whole thing was arranged not two days after Kitiara ran away from home. Apparently, he was as thrilled about the engagement as she was, but he owed our father a favor. I don't doubt he danced a jig down there in his watery palace when Kitiara fled. Amara is no princess, nor is she a shrinking violet – she's the first daughter of a very wealthy silk merchant, and has been running the business for quite a while now. She's very practical and has a wonderful sense of humor. She'll do the aging man good, and probably continue running her father's business to boot. I wouldn't put it past her. They're to be married in only a month's time. It would have been sooner, but with all his raids Darius has made sure that the Mer King's whole attention was focused on things other than marriage. I've always wondered if the little monster didn't have some kind of agenda in keeping them apart."

They were now approaching the Goblin City, and the thick gold light was fading quickly to a russet color. The lights were being turned on one by one as they entered, goblin mothers calling for their children to come in for dinner, merchants closing shop and tipping their hats to their neighbors as they wandered home after a long day, and a few Fae riding purposefully through the streets, calling greetings to each other as they continued toward their destinations. It was all so magical, and Sarah breathed in as deeply as she could, hoping to take that enchantment inside of her, let it permeate her.

They passed The String Quartet, where the sounds of raucous music and hearty laughter could be heard from inside. "Must be celebrating Tesi's engagement," Ter said quietly as they rode past. They passed through a large square, and on the other side the taverns began. Light and the smells of beer and roast fowl spilled from open doorways and goblins and Fae and pixies and any number of other creatures wandered inside.

"Come, this way." They turned down a side street to find more taverns. At the end of that street they stopped in front of The Silver Unicorn. Sarah sized it up as they dismounted. It was a large, three-story building, with open windows spilling roars of laughter and cries for more ale. It wasn't dilapidated, per se, but it could have obviously used a new coat of paint, and some of the windows were rather grimy. Still, it looked welcoming in a way.

Upon entering, the first thing Sarah noticed was that it was packed. Most of the tables were round and the chairs wooden, but it seemed like they had dragged in whatever they could get their hands on to accommodate their unexpected clientele, including overstuffed armchairs squashed around long, rectangular tables and tall stools that boosted the person on them high above the rest of the crowd. A bar ran the entire length of the room on the right side, while burly-looking bartenders hurried to fill pitchers and pass them to harried-looking waitresses, who then weaved expertly through the crowd to their tables. Directly opposite the bar was a large fire where fat dripped off spitted fowl and hissed in the fire. The smells of wood smoke, warm bodies and liquor nearly overwhelmed Sarah, and she had to grab Ter's arm to keep from falling down. In the far back corner on the left-hand side, a stage had been built, and recently from its fresh, clean look. Upon it stood a large, heavily muscled man playing a lute, and a beautiful woman singing a rowdy ballad about a eunuch, a maiden and a magical diamond. Many of the patrons clapped along merrily, and some sang along as the adventures of the unlikely pair got even more and more unbelievable. She couldn't help but cheer and clap as the song ended with the eunuch stealing the gemstone and growing back some of his missing parts and the maiden turning blue for the rest of her life as punishment because she lost it. The sound of coins ringing as they hit the stage filled the tavern for a few minutes, before Ter grabbed her arm.

"Come on, he said, we'd better hurry if we're going to get a seat somewhere, I think if it's possible this place is getting even fuller!" As he said that, several grumbling Fae walked in behind them, and he led her to the back of the room, where a previously unnoticed stairwell led up to the balconies on the second level.

"This is where the more wealthy sit," he whispered to her as a goblin greeted him warmly and led them to a table near the edge of the balcony with a great view of the stage. Unlike the rickety devices downstairs, these were solid, draped with red damask, and lit by candlelight. Ter and Sarah claimed two softly cushioned chairs on one side of the table. "Kitiara and Bran will be joining us in a moment." And in fact, she noticed that the singing had stopped, and the sound of conversation was now buzzing from down below.

Ter flagged down one of the waitress, who, on the upper level, were dressed a little more orderly and looked less frazzled, and ordered a bottle of their very best red wine, and after a moment of thought, a pitcher of ale. She curtsied and moved away, appearing not to hurry though she moved very fast. More like she floated.

There was no long wait for the pair, for they hurried up the steps a few seconds later, two at a time, and both greeted Ter with huge hugs and smiles all around. Sarah shook hands as she was introduced, though both swept her up in an embrace afterwards as though she were as much family as Ter. Bran was big and friendly, with calloused hands from his previous work as a blacksmith and his new trade as a lutist. He took his seat with a relaxed sigh as Sarah was introduced to Kitiara.

Ter's sister was a study in beauty, though earthy loveliness as opposed to Raven's ethereal splendor. She had a heart-shaped face, framed by silky black curls akin to Ter's. Her eyes were the same dark shade of grey, though at odd moments Sarah would have sworn they were shot through with deep blue. She had a wide, expressive mouth with full lips, and straight white teeth. It was obvious that once she had possessed the pale skin that Raven and her twin shared, but now it was sun-kissed, with a spattering of freckles across the bridge of her bobbed nose. She was by no means thin, but certainly not fat. She had that plumpness associated with women who are loved and who are contented with their lives. She was dressed simply in dark violet, and after she shook hands she hugged Sarah and kissed her once on each cheek before taking a seat beside her husband.

"Ah, Ter," she sighed in her rich voice as the wine and ale arrived. "It's so lovely to see you again. I'm afraid we've only got twenty minutes before we go back out, but after this next set we're free for the evening." She poured a glass of ale for Bran, who drank it in two gulps and held his empty tumbler out for another with a grin.

"Yes, it has been a while Kitiara. I suppose you've heard the news?"

"I have," she replied, schooling her face to a calm, "Jareth informed me the moment this whole thing started. That's part of the reason we're traveling to the Pixie Kingdom – to pave the way for his emissaries later." She cast a sly wink in Sarah's direction. "Of course, he also wrote to inform me of **_your_** arrival as well. His descriptions do not do you justice, I think. But then again, Jareth never was one for conveying passion with written words." She winked again, and Sarah wondered if Jareth and Kitiara perhaps had shared something in their youth.

"I don't think even the greatest balladeer in the world could do Sarah justice, Kitiara. It's just not possible." He grinned at her and handed her a goblet of the wine, the heady scent permeating her nostrils. She took it with a smile.

"Shameless flatterer," she said as she sipped.

He poured another for himself and one for Kitiara, who seemed to preoccupied with keeping Bran's glass full to be concerned about her own. She took it with a grateful nod, but didn't drink.

"I bet I could, Ter."

"Perhaps you could. So what's this news you mentioned? I haven't been able to concentrate since your letter."

Bran stopped mid-drink and put his glass down on the table. He glanced at Kitiara and took her hand in his huge ones with a solemn look. They both turned to him and at the same instant said, "We're pregnant."

Ter's jaw hit the table. It took all Sarah had to keep him from sliding off the chair and into the floor. "When? How? What?" He spluttered.

"It's only a few weeks, Ter, so there's no way you could've noticed. Don't blame yourself."

"Bu-but-but that's **_great_** news!" He jumped up and looked down over the balcony before pitching his voice to be heard over the din. "A round of ale on me, everybody! I'm going to be an uncle!"

Cheers echoed throughout the large building and probably down the street to the other end. Sarah watched as everyone below toasted Ter with warm and not-a-little-drunk grins, and the waitresses shot him dirty looks as they were forced out into the crowd laden down with more alcohol.

Not bothering to pick up his chair, which he had knocked over when he sailed out of it, he lifted Kitiara up from her seat and spun her around, to the applause of the few other Fae on the balcony. When he saw fit to sit her back down, his eyes were shining with a feverish light, and he kissed her once on each cheek, once on the forehead, and once tenderly on the mouth. He turned to shake hands heartily with an ecstatic Bran. Then, both of them went downstairs to get up a "Three Cheers for Bran", and toast everybody they could find.

Kitiara rolled her eyes and picked up the discarded chair. "Well, at least it gives us a few moments alone together. They'll be like this all night, I bet."

Sarah laughed and took another sip of her wine before discarding it discreetly and pouring herself some ale, which she drank with a satisfied sigh. Kitiara laughed, and she couldn't help but smile back. "I never was a big fan of that stuff." Down below, Ter could be heard toasting to a beautiful baby boy, which would be named after him.

Kitiara, sitting across from Sarah, studied her shrewdly from behind her stormy eyes. "Jareth told me all about you, Sarah. I know who you are, **_what_** you are, and where you're from. What I don't understand," she said, "is why you're here. It's obvious you've won my brother's attentions, though whether that's love or lust has yet to make itself known. Do you know what you're doing, Sarah?"

Sarah had expected something of this sort – it had become obvious that Ter and Kitiara were very close. They seemed closer perhaps than Ter and his own twin. It would make sense that she would become protective. "No, I don't know what I'm doing, Kitiara. I'll be honest with you. I – I don't know how I feel about Ter, or about Jareth, or even about me at this point. Everything's so sudden, and it scares me that all of this doesn't scare me. Does that make sense to you?"

Kitiara was silent for a minute, staring down into her untouched glass of wine, and then she nodded. "I think I get you. But please be careful, Sarah. I'm an excellent judge of character, and I like you a lot. I don't want you hurt. Ter's known far and wide as a lover, but he doesn't submit well to love itself. Please be careful."

Sarah was taken aback. She had thought Kitiara would be concerned for her brother's well being. She opened her mouth and closed it again, much like a fish out of water for too long, and didn't know what to say. "I'll be careful, Kitiara." Down below, more cheers and the sound of crashing glasses.

"Oh my," said the dark-haired woman, "I wonder what they're up to down there? Ter's paying for it, I'll say it right now." She turned to Sarah with a smile. "He gets this way. The man loves children more than life itself. I think he's a little afraid to be a father, though – it's a big responsibility. This baby will be good for him. Maybe then he'll settle down."

Sarah shook her head. "Oh, I doubt that. He seems to be enjoying life too much for that."

"Don't be so sure you know him, Sarah. Ter's been like this for a long time. He's afraid of what commitment will mean to him. He remembers our parents' marriage all too well."

"If you don't mind me asking, what were your parents like? I think if I asked Ter, he would clam up, but you seem less bothered by it."

"Oh, I don't mind telling the story. Mother was the Princess of the Fae Kingdom. When she was just eight years old, her parents arranged for her to marry father, who was the first son of a wealthy merchant, blah, blah, blah. That nonsense about good marriages never made sense to me, as you can see." She indicated downstairs, where Ter and Bran were leading the crowd in a chorus of some silly and rather dirty song. "Mother hated father from the start. She tried running away, she tried suicide… she even tried eloping, with Jareth's father, believe it or not. But none of that mattered. She was caught three days from the palace after she ran away, grandfather had put guards on her day and night to make sure she didn't succeed at suicide, and the marriage was annulled because she had already been promised. Society was much harsher in those days." She shook her head. "It was a shame. Father was a petty tyrant. He had been taught that all that mattered in life was obedient children, vast riches and an important title. He had two of those three, at least."

"But mother knew better than to let him have a say in our raising. We spent most of our childhood away from the castle – which was probably good for us. That's how we met Jareth, for one, and for two, it allowed us to see how real families lived. Mother died not long after I turned thirteen, which was the legal age to be engaged at that time – though it's since been moved up, thank the Nine. It was ruled a suicide, but I always wondered if maybe father didn't murder her so she wouldn't have a say in who I was engaged to."

"I'm so sorry," Sarah said, placing a hand on top of Kitiara's. "Ter told me it was bad, and he told me about your running away, but I never knew the whole story."

"Well, that pretty much is the whole story. Now, father's married some other poor misfortunate. I met her once – she's younger than me. She's miserable and oppressed in that castle, and spends her days crying, from what I hear. I won't blame her if she jumps off the parapets anytime soon."

"Wow," Sarah said, and reflected on her own family life, for once thankful for the people she had been born to.

"That's enough sadness for tonight. It's supposed to be a celebration!" She stood up. "Bran and I are expected onstage now. Stick around to hear the music, if you want, though it might be a while before we can come back down." She kissed Sarah on the forehead and went gracefully down the stairs, glowing with pregnancy, now that Sarah knew what to look for. A few seconds later, the lute struck and Sarah saw Ter's unruly curls top the stairs. His cheeks were flushed red from the alcohol, and that feverish light still shined behind his eyes, like the sun trying to break through a boiling storm.

"I still can't believe it. I'm so happy for her," he said as he sat down. Below, Bran strummed a few chords before striking up a lively tune. This one wasn't humorous, however, and Kitiara's rich voice gave expression to the excitement of young lovers. She didn't think much of it a few seconds later when Ter put an arm around her shoulder. She focused hard on the couple, who really did make an amazing team on the stage. The crowd cheered and whooped as the song ended and Bran went right into a slow, strumming melody and Kitiara began to sing a lullaby. Ter's deft fingers began to run lightly up and down her neck, his thumb caressing her jaw line.

Inside her, Sarah felt a smoldering anger that wasn't hers. A cruel smile curled her lips and she leaned into his caress, not considering the implications of her actions, only happy to be angering the entity possessing her. Many of the Fae that had been dining stood to leave as the song ended and another began. This was a humorous one about a troll who was cursed to think himself a dwarf, and his misadventures as a giant trying to fit in with little people and finding nothing wrong with his size. The last Fae couple on the balcony other than themselves left as loud applause burst forth from downstairs. They were alone.

They then did another humorous song about a spurned lover who sought revenge through a witch, but her attempts at tripping up her man just ended in misery for her. About halfway through the song, Ter planted a soft kiss on the side of her neck. She felt herself shivering in response as he continued, kissing and gently nibbling her neck and out across her bare shoulder. With his free hand, he began to stroke her silky hair, and it was all she could do to contain herself.

She leaned backwards into him as a duet wafted up from below, a love song between Kitiara and Bran. Both of Ter's arms encircled her, roaming her stomach and her thighs and gently touching her breasts as his mouth became more insistent on her neck and shoulders. Sarah's eyes rolled back in her head at the ecstasy of his touch. His left hand began questing lower and lower until it was grasping her inner thigh, his thumb infuriatingly close to her but not touching, and his other hand turned her head until he could kiss her on the mouth. His firm, dry lips claimed hers, burned them, and he tasted of wine and spice. Sarah was lost – she was drowning in him and his scent and his masculinity. Somewhere in the back of her head that woman was cursing her as a whore, but Sarah couldn't make it out through the haze of alcohol and sex that was consuming her like a tidal wave.

She felt herself growing hot, hot like a sun, hot like a nova, until his touch on her skin was like ice on an open flame. She broke away from him, but only long enough to turn and face him, scoot until she was sitting on his knees and he was kissing her breast just above where the fabric began. His strong hands picked her up as if she were nothing and scooted her farther on his lap until she could feel his own heat answering her own. As he continued exploring her body with his mouth, she grasped his shoulders as if she were suspended over a bottomless pit and he were the only thing saving her.

She leaned into him as reached around her to loosen the fastenings of her top, pulling the silk fabric off her shoulder until her breast was exposed, the rosy nipple taught before he ever touched it. Again his mouth and his precocious tongue began their work, almost sending her over the edge with their endless teasing. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she heard the music below stop and heard Kitiara saying to her "Ter's known far and wide as a lover…"

She jumped back off his lap, pulling her clothes in order, panting with the effort it took to break away, sex still coursing through her veins thicker than her own blood. She shook her head. "This isn't right, Ter. I barely know you." She attempted to refasten her top, but it was too hard and she cursed under her breath as the complicated mess continued to slip through her fingers.

"I understand, Sarah. I apologize; it was my fault more than yours. Here, let me help you." At a look from her he added, "As a token of goodwill. Besides, Kitiara will be back soon, their set's almost over and she's gonna notice your top undone."

Warily she turned around, tense and throbbing still with unsatisfied need, though it was abating, thank God. He quickly sorted out the confusion she'd made of the fastenings, and paused for one last gentle caress of her neck and a kiss. "Again, I'm sorry."

She took a deep shuddering breath, feeling the unnatural heat subside slightly, and gave him a shaky smile. "It's okay. I think."

Bran and Kitiara finished their set with another soft ballad, to the cheers of everyone in the room, and they gathered up the coins from the stage. By the time they got back to the balcony, Ter and Sarah had gone through another pitcher of ale and Ter was regaling her with the lively story of how he had once stolen the High King's horse on a bet from Jareth. Kitiara smiled, watching the two who seemed so enraptured with one another.

The goodbyes were brief and heartfelt, Kitiara promising to stop by again soon to see how Sarah was doing, and the couple headed upstairs to their bed. Ter led Sarah through the taproom, which was quickly clearing out, and outside into the night. A sliver of a moon had already made it halfway across the sky and the stars shined brilliantly. She shivered despite the warmth of the evening, and mounted her horse.

During their ride home, it was obvious that Ter wasn't happy with himself for what he had almost done. He didn't brood, necessarily, but there was obvious self-loathing in his eyes. As they rode into the gates, Ter ordered one of the sleepy goblin stable hands to help her down from her horse and whispered a goodbye as he attempted to stride into the castle without touching her.

Sarah's heart melted. She raced after him and threw her arms around his waist from behind, oblivious to the knowing stares of the goblins as they took their time about stabling the horses. Ter stopped and stood stiffly, refusing to face her.

"Ter," she whispered, her heart in her voice, "please turn around and look at me. I have to talk to you."

He took a step away from her, twitching his cloak, and turned to look at her. The haunted expression in the steel grey of his eyes made her want to either tackle him and kiss him or smack him and tell him to get over it, she wasn't sure which. "Listen to me," she said softly as she strode up to him, pressing her body against his and holding his jaw in place so he couldn't look anywhere else but her eyes. "It was as much my fault as it was yours. Don't be upset with yourself. I like you a lot, but it just wasn't right in that bar with all those other people. It's okay," she whispered, and she kissed him softly on the lips.

"No, it's not okay, Sarah. What I did was unforgivable. I don't just like you. I respect you, and love you like I've never loved anyone else, and I was treating you like a common whore. That's inexcusable."

"You love me?" Asked Sarah, unable to comprehend it.

"Yes. I know it's hard to believe with my reputation, Sarah. That's why it can't be like that. I want to prove to you just how special you are to me."

"But you've only known me for a few days…" She trailed off, cursing herself for brushing off his feelings when she knew that love at first sight was entirely possible.

"I know!" It was his turn to hold her chin so she couldn't look away. "It doesn't make any more sense to me than you. I've never been in love before in my life, and I can understand why now – it hurts so much. Every morning I wake up terrified that this is all just some kind of horrible dream. And then I see you and everything's okay again. And I want you to believe me, but you're not going to if I keep acting like I did this evening. So, yes, it is my fault."

She kissed him again, and this time he didn't resist, but wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, kissing her back with a fierce passion. "Don't be so hard on yourself. I do believe that you love me. Tonight, to me, was only proof of that. So thank you for a wonderful evening. Now go take a cold shower." She kissed him again, lightly, and he let her go, watching her walk into the castle with her head held high.

Once in her bedroom, Sarah stripped quickly and settled down between the covers, grateful for the warm silky body of Chak, who jumped up to join her seconds after she had laid down. Perhaps he sensed her emotional turmoil because he licked her forehead before settling down contentedly in her arms, purring raggedly for both of them.

Fastest Chapter EVER! OH YEA!


	7. Chapter 5: Recovering the Satellites

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

AN Okay, there was a good question brought up in a recent review – I meant to convey Sarah's confusion. At the moment, she truly doesn't know how she feels – when she's with Jareth, she thinks she might be in love with him, likewise when she's with Ter. And when she's alone, she thinks it's ridiculous to be falling in love with ANYONE after having known them for such a short period of time. And thus her predicament. I hope that clears some things up for you.

CHAPTER 5: RECOVERING THE SATELLITES 

Gonna get back to basics

Guess I'll start it up again

I'm falling from the ceiling

You're falling from the sky now and then

Maybe you were shot down in pieces

Maybe I slipped in between

But we were gonna be the wildest people they ever hoped to see

Just you and me

So why'd you come home to this sleepless town

It's a lifetime commitment

Recovering the satellites

All anybody really wants to know is…

When you gonna come down

Your mother recognizes all your desperate displays

And she watches as her babies drift violently away

'Til they see themselves in telescopes

Do you see yourself in me?

We're such crazy babies, little monkey

We're so fucked up, you and me

So why'd you come home to this faithless town

Where we make a lifetime commitment

To recovering the satellites

And all anybody really wants to know is…

When are you gonna come down

She sees shooting stars and comet tails

She's got heaven in her eyes

She says I don't need to be an angel

But I'm nothing if I'm not this high

But we only stay in orbit

For a moment of time

And then you're everybody's satellite

I wish that you were mine

So why'd you come home to this angel's town?

Well, it's a lifetime's decision

Recovering the satellites

And all anybody really knows for sure is…

That you're gonna come down

Counting Crows Recovering the Satellites

Aikanaro blew impatiently as Jareth tossed the leather saddle over the horse's back and began to cinch it. It was a chilly night out – fall fast approaching – and Jareth poked his mount's ribs to make him release his breath before tightening the harness even more snugly. He'd learned the hard way how dangerous it was not to check after that fateful ride his last season at his father's palace. It had been during his long, painful recovery that he'd learned from Arie her true lineage. Or guessed it rather; he still had no concrete proof. He cursed the High King under his breath as he secured his tightly packed saddlebags and mounted, ready to leave.

He would have to make good time tonight to reach the High Court before dawn – he should have left the moment he and Sarah had arrived back at the castle, but he had dallied, wanting to see her one last time before he left. He had watched her ride off into the rays of the dying sun with Ter at her side, jealousy burning in his breast. Still, even with this between them, Jareth couldn't bring himself to hate Ter. Not after all they'd been through together.

He shook his head as he heard a voice at his chest. "Sire? Sire?"

"Yes, yes, I'm leaving, Ignacio. Please, take care of matters while I'm gone, and don't fight overmuch with Siri, eh?" The two pixies hated each other with a passion that Jareth couldn't fathom, though thankfully they conducted themselves properly during the day – their offices spent so much time in close contact with each other that his kingdom would've probably been torn apart at the seams by their feud.

"Done, Your Highness. I won't dignify her base speech with comment." He turned his nose into the air and Jareth laughed.

"Just keep out of trouble, eh? I should be back tomorrow or the day after."

In reply, Ignacio signaled for the guards to open the gates and watched as his king rode off into the night. He turned to go inside and stopped in his tracks. There was someone standing in the doorway, leaning in the shadows with crossed arms. Swiftly, he drew his shortsword, a special blade three quarters the length of a normal one. He began to walk slowly closer, squinting into the darkness. As far as he could tell, the person was unarmed.

After moving only a few feet nearer, he recognized the short figure propping up the doorpost and snorted with disgust before sheathing his sword. "Only you, eh, Siri? Didn't have the guts to come out here and say goodbye? Had to cower in the doorway?" He shoved past her so fast he didn't notice the moonlight illuminating the trails of tears running down her face or the pain in her eyes.

Jareth rode all night as if the hounds of hell were pounding on his heels and entered the courtyard just as the cocks had begun to crow. It would be hours before the first official court session began, but he didn't have the patience to stable Aikanaro himself. Instead he found Cornelius, the old Stable Master and a major aide and abettor in his and Ter's pranks as youngsters, dozing just inside the stable door. He bent close to his friend's face, not making a sound. Stealthily, the grizzled old man opened an eye before jumping in surprise. Jareth couldn't keep a smile from his face.

"Jareth!" Cornelius spluttered. "What brings ye here? And at sich an ungodly hour?"

In response Jareth yawned and stretched with a sheepish grin. "I was meaning to leave yesterday afternoon, my good friend, but I was… detained."

A knowing grin split the old man's face, and he chuckled. "We've got little enough news of ye up here at the High Court, Jareth, but word has it she's quite the catch." He motioned Jareth to lean closer before he continued, "And a mortal to boot. Haven't lost your touch fer infuriating your old man, eh?"

Jareth shook his head. "It's complicated Cornelius. Don't believe everything you hear just yet, okay?"

He nodded sagely, scratching at the stubble on his chin before replying. "Aye, I'll do as ye say. But how's life treatin' ye now that yeh're yer own Master?"

"Not as nicely as I was planning, as I'm sure you've heard."

"Ah, yes, methinks I've heered something along them lines. S'why yeh're here, ain't it?"

Jareth nodded grimly.

"I suppose yeh'd better know before yeh go in, though."

"Know what?" Jareth asked cautiously, the tiny hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

Cornelius hesitated, opening and closing his mouth like a gaping fish out of water. "It's horrible, bad, Jareth. Yeh're brother's terrible awful sick. Them medicios say he's only got a few more months to live. Say it's an Incurable."

An Incurable. A wasting disease for which there was neither known cause nor treatment. "Oh no, Cornelius. Where is he?"

"Right now? I don't know. He spends most o' his time in his room, nowadays. Ain't got nuthin' much to say to nobody. Can't blame him, really."

"Thank you, Cornelius, old friend. I'll speak with you later." Jareth left with a furious swirl of his pale blue cloak. Cornelius stared after him, wondering at what kind of man his fun-loving prince had become.

Inside, Jareth tiptoed softly down the hallway outside his brother's room, memories of long-ago days threatening to overwhelm him.

A heavy guilt lay inside the Goblin King's heart. His brother Jarred had been born not long after Jareth had left the High Kingdom. Abandoned to an infirm mother and a father made cold and distant by the actions of his older brother, the boy had grown up as best he could on his own, abandoned by Jareth, whom he had worshipped as a hero and a god.

Jareth could still clearly recall his few visits to the High Court – his anger at the High King and concern for the Queen causing him to ignore and sometimes downright hate his younger brother. He hadn't seen or talked to the boy, or man rather, in ages, despite Jarred's many letters requesting visits from his much-loved older brother. The enmity between Jareth and their father was too strong for the Goblin King to overcome. And now look – Jareth had but a few months to make up for all those years of un-brotherly conduct.

Softly he rapped on the door, but there was no answer. Finding it unlocked, he eased it open, wincing at the slight creak. The drapes were drawn and the room was in total darkness. A thick, hoarse cough issued from somewhere within followed by unhealthy wheezing. The sheets rustled and then all was still again. It took everything within Jareth not to slam the door in uncontrollable anger. Instead, however, he growled low and dangerous in his throat and eased the door closed again.

He made his way unerringly to the one room he was bound to find his father in – the private conference room. This one was unlocked as well, and he let himself in. It was empty, the pale morning sun shining in from the western five of the nine high windows to illuminate the stone table in the center of the otherwise bare, circular room.

Pointedly taking the seat his father would occupy, had he been there, Jareth put both boots on the table and waited.

He wasn't disappointed: not long after he heard voices outside in the corridor. He rested his head on his steepled hands and stared intently at the door, much like a cat keenly waiting to pounce on its prey.

There was a loud burst of male laughter and the door opened to admit the High King in all his finery. He had unruly blond hair obviously like Jareth's, though shot through with quite a lot of grey. He had his back turned to the room as he entered, and therefore didn't notice his oldest son until his soft, steely voice cut through the raucous laughter.

"Why didn't you send for me, **_father_**?" The High King was visibly startled, and he turned slowly to look at Jareth. Anger and not a little trepidation haunted his ice blue eyes as he spotted the Goblin King.

"Gentlemen, it seems I have some unexpected business to dispatch with this morning. I bid you good day." He kept his back turned to the room until the courtiers had disappeared around the corner before turning in an angry swirl of his grey fur cloak. "What right have **_you_** to come here and barge uninvited into **_my_** palace?"

"Seeing as how I grew up here, am a member of the High Court, I'd say I have every right in the world. Not to mention the fact that this will one day be **_my_** palace. Now again, why didn't you tell me?" Jareth's voice was an explosive calm, and he didn't move from his spot in the High King's chair, though his father fumed.

A cruel smile split his father's face. "What good would it have done? You ignored every one of his letters – mine wouldn't have gotten through any faster."

"That's not true and you know it. I bet you've been refusing to allow my mother to tell me, as well. You are a poor excuse for a Fae."

"And you're a poorer excuse for a son! I should have you beheaded for your insolence! Harboring a human in the Underground just to sate your lusts! Fool! It's taken everything I have to keep the High Court from trying you!"

"It's probably taken everything you have just to convince them to consider it. They know me – all of them. They've known me since I was a boy. They understand that my actions have a purpose."

"Oh they do, do they? And what, pray tell, is that purpose?" The High King hadn't budged from his spot by the door.

"None of your business at the moment. Sometimes I'm afraid you don't really grasp what is. I suppose you've heard the rumors of what Darius has been planning. Or perhaps you're the one who loosed the idea to rattle around in that ugly head of his?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I have nothing to do with it. I washed my hands of the whole mess when it first appeared that you couldn't handle the situation. It's your problem. If you fail to keep events under control, it is your fault and none other."

Jareth realized in that moment what his father was planning. It was a cunning plot. He was hoping that Darius would murder his oldest son, and he could be rid of him without soiling his own hands. "When did you begin to despise me so?" Jareth asked in a defeated voice, hating the terrible waste of energy required by both men to abhor each other.

"When you became an insufferable weakling and an undutiful son." Came the cold reply.

Jareth shook his head. This was about Dulsinea, as it had been since Jareth was a teenager. Just then, his anger flared and before he could control himself he said, "You realize that if I die, that makes Arie the next in line for the throne, don't you?"

His father's face turned deathly pale and then flushed a deep shade of scarlet, followed by a volatile purple. "What did you say?"

"You heard me. I **_know_**." He spat the word as though it tasted vile. "I've known for a while. And I have suspicions about Ind, as well, though I haven't found any proof. You've wronged my mother beyond belief, and you stand there and feign being incensed as if you've never made a mistake in you life! You disgust me!"

"And you sit there with your disrespectful, muddy boots on my table and pretend that you don't have a human lying in your sheets, waiting for you to return. Don't talk to me about mistakes, **_boy_**, for I've played higher odds than you'll ever see and come out a winner."

"Yes, well, we'll see. You're time is almost up. And then I will show you what a true ruler is. Don't think I won't denounce you for the adulterous, lying bastard you are, either. When I am High King, things will be much different."

A sickeningly cunning smile crossed the High King's features, and he replied in a venomous voice, "You won't take my place if Darius kills you."

"You're right, I won't. Arie will. A spineless woman trained from birth to scrub kitchen floors and carry food without spilling it. Your precious Underground will be lost to those vultures circling my kingdom as we speak." Jareth paused for a minute to let that barb sink in before continuing. "Since you cannot do your duty to your subjects and stop this horrible nonsense, I have nothing further to discuss with you. I'll be addressing the High Court later today. May the cries of all the innocents you've murdered with your petty and pathetic games haunt your dreams." Jareth stood and made as if to exit.

"Sit back down. I'm not through with you."

"I, however, am through with you. I am as through with you as I possibly can be. I do not claim you as father, Jenrian. Good day, **_Your Highness_**." With that, Jareth shoved the older man aside and walked calmly out the door.

It had felt good to finally say it. Jareth couldn't deny that a weight on his shoulders had lifted, but still, it had been a stupid thing to do. Especially since he hadn't been before the High Court yet. He shrugged and continued on, feeling justified in his actions.

His first stop now that he had several hours free was at his mother's room. She sat in her wheeled chair, gazing out at the hustle and bustle of the courtyard as people arrived and left, the early morning chill repelled by a thick woolen blanket. "Jareth," she whispered, her voice soft and slightly husky.

"How did you know it was me, mother?" Jareth asked, crossing the room to drop a gentle kiss on the Queen's wrinkled brow.

"How can a mother not know her own son? I've missed you, baby." She grasped him in an embrace, though her arms were as weak as a newborn infant's – characteristic of her infirmity.

"I've missed you, too, mother. How is Jarred? Is it really as bad as they say?"

"Every bit as bad as the rumor mill is reporting, dear." Tears welled up in her big, brown eyes. "You should spend some time with him now that you're here. He's done nothing but talk of visiting you since he was first pronounced sick. Perhaps it will do his heart some good to know that you're here."

"Perhaps," was Jareth's doubting reply. "Though heaven knows by all rights he should despise me and kill me on sight for my abysmal treatment of him. I am a scoundrel."

"Nonsense," she retorted, "and you know it. You are the best son a mother could've asked for, and a blessing on the Underground for all you've done. Jarred understands what keeps you away."

Jareth shook his head. "Yes, but if I were any kind of man nothing would've stopped me from seeing my brother." He saw that look in the High Queen's eyes and before she could start he headed her off. "I can see now there'll be no arguing with you, so we'll drop it. How have you been?"

"As well as can be expected, dear, and that's a far sight better than I'd hoped. I still keep in touch with the outside world, though now only through letters and listening to Aleann gossip to me every morning. The reports are most satisfactory. And, speaking of rumors, what is this I hear of a human, Jareth? Why, darling?"

Jareth kneeled and looked earnestly up into his mother's face. Here was his rock and his comfort. Resting his head in his mother's lap as she stroked his hair, he spoke. "I've been afraid to tell anyone else, mother, but I know you'll understand. Mayhap you'll even see through the mess to what should be done, because I know I can't. Do you remember hearing of the female human that bested me not too long ago?"

"Yes, I do. Her name was Sarah. She was quite an unusual girl from what I heard at the time. Did things no other human has managed, besides beating you. Is this the fugitive you harbor?"

"I've felt a connection with her, since then. As I was sitting in my throne one day, I heard her scream, and couldn't stop myself from going to investigate. When I found her, she was dying, mother. I couldn't just leave her there to drown, so I did the first thing I thought of – brought her here. And now I can't make myself send her back. I think I'm in love with her, even though I know the whole Underground is against me; even though I know it's defying every law made after that horrible war."

"You know, I recall an old children's tale about a beautiful human woman that came to the Underground. I don't remember for the life of me what became of her, though. Knowing our laws, she was probably sent back Aboveground. It doesn't matter though. She's not our concern. Your Sarah is. You say you think you love her, Jareth?"

"I believe so, mother. I certainly love her more than all of the other debutantes that I have forced on me everyday. She's intelligent and beautiful, which are both excellent qualities, but she's also something else. Something I can't put my finger on. Were it not illegal, I might consider taking her for my bride."

His mother stopped her petting to lift his chin and stare deeply into his eyes. "Those are serious words, Jareth, and I know your impulsiveness. Are you sure you mean them? Or are you just looking for the next way to spite your father?"

"I mean them," he answered.

"And do you know that it is her wish to stay?"

"I do," and he internally winced, because he didn't know if it was for him or Ter that she chose to remain Underground.

"Then why do you need advice, my son? If you love this woman, wed her. All things, for love, are forgiven in the end. Besides, from the disaster brewing to the south of you, you may need a strong, steady wife to make it through. I suppose that's why you've come here. Nothing but this or your father's death could be strong enough to draw you to this court."

Jareth sighed. "It's true. However, I have shamed myself. I should have come sooner. Perhaps I could've done something about Jarred."

His mother sighed, and tears came to her soft brown eyes. "No, Jareth, there's nothing you could have done. Jarred's crisis, whether he'll admit it or no, runs much deeper than the disease riddling his body. It's something eating at his soul. I can see it in his eyes every time he opens them, and hear it in his voice every time he speaks." She stopped to look at him again. "Help him, Jareth," she pleaded, "he's beyond my reach."

"I will, mother. I'll do everything in my power to relieve his suffering, if I can't heal his wounded soul."

"I'm afraid it might be too late for that, love," she said as he stood, "but it will ease my heart to know that he has had some peace in his life, even if just for a few moments."

Jareth saw that old familiar dull pain flash across his mother's face, and knew that she had been out of bed too long to be good for her. He tucked the blanket tenderly about her legs and wheeled her over to the bed. "You must rest now. You've been up for hours; I can see it in your eyes. Let me help you." He assisted her out of the wheeled chair and into bed, where he settled the soft comforters around her. Her eyes were fluttering closed even as he kissed her forehead gently and whispered his goodbye.

Out in the hall, he leaned against the door and fought back tears. Being here hurt him more than he could've imagined – seeing his mother's infirmity, having all of his memories haunting him like hateful ghosts torturing him with images of happiness he would never know again. He felt a strong need for Sarah – just to see her smile would've made everything better. She would look at him with that serious, concerned expression she sometimes wore, and in just a few moments he would feel as if a universe had been lifted from his shoulders.

Mentally slapping himself, he stood straight and cursed himself for a blubbering child. He angrily dashed the tears from his eyes and rubbed his forehead. He could feel one of those headaches building – the kind that left his ears ringing and his whole body trembling. His face was burning, though he knew his normally pallid complexion showed only the faintest signs of a blush.

Straightening his clothing, he made for his brother's room again, determined to wake him if he hadn't stirred. That was unnecessary, however, because his soft knock was answered and he entered to find Jarred dressed and peering wistfully off the balcony, his back to the door.

"Hello, little brother," Jareth said quietly when Jarred didn't turn or acknowledge his presence. He saw the man instantly perk, like a setter catching the faintest hint of its quarry.

"Oh," he sighed, "I'm dreaming again. Damn." He turned around, his muddy-brown eyes feverishly lit up from within. "Jareth." He said, his voice barely above a whisper and the tremulous shivering of his glass betraying his barely checked emotions.

"Yes, Jarred it's me. I'm here. And I'm so sorry."

Jarred didn't wait for more confirmation – he dropped his glass on the floor and rushed to grasp his sibling in a bear hug. The Goblin King could smell the sickness on him, and feel it in his brother's wasted frame as he returned the embrace. He felt as if his heart was shattering into a million pieces, and then those pieces were being stampeded over, and those abused fragments melted in a burning furnace.

"I thought you'd never come. I was so afraid that I was going to die without getting to see you one last time."

Instantly, Jareth felt his stomach tie up into a huge knot, and a lump formed in his throat, preventing him from replying or even breathing. Several times he attempted to respond, but only croaks issued forth. Finally, after swallowing several times, he managed to choke out, "I know, and it's entirely my fault for not coming to see you sooner. But now I'm here, and I promise to make up for it."

Jarred released him and smiled. "No, don't blame yourself, you're a busy man and I know it." He walked to the window and threw the drapes wide, letting the brilliant sunlight shine in. Most of the morning fog had burned off, and the day promised the chilly delight of fall.

"The balls are starting soon, Jareth. You can feel it in the air – it's like a charge electrifying everything. Are you planning on attending any this year? I've heard you've dropped quite a bit from the social life in recent times."

Jareth managed a watery smile. "Oh really? Well, I see the court gossips are still doing their jobs."

"You're all they speak of, Jareth, as you always have been. Darius is planning to declare war for some stupid reason or another, and you've gone mad – first that fiasco with Ter and Raven, and then dragging that dratted human woman here. Though there seems to be some confusion among them whether she's a human or an elf you've captured and forced to wed you. Even if you haven't been here in person, it's like I've been right beside you through all of your adventures."

At this the Goblin King sighed. "What they say isn't half the truth, little brother. Would that it were, my life would be much easier. But enough about me, I'm sure you're sick of hearing my name if they talk about me half as much as they used to. What have you been doing lately?" He regretted those words as soon as they left his mouth.

"Oh, you know, this and that. I haven't managed to get out as much as you have, what with things the way they are, but I manage to have my own small escapades here and there."

There was an awkward silence between the two for a few moments where each spent an eternity looking everywhere but the other's eyes. Then Jarred laughed and smiled. "I still can't believe you're here."

"I can't believe I am either," Jareth replied.

"Well, to celebrate, I'm taking you out for drinks before you leave."

"I was planning on that being tonight, but in light of recent developments, I think I can spare a few more days. Ter is still at the castle to hold down the fort. I accept your invitation."

"Excellent. What are you doing today?"

"I'm addressing the High Court on the issue of Darius's aggression and to request the council do something to stop the tomfoolery, but after this morning I'm afraid I'll just be standing there watching as my last bridge disintegrates in flames."

"You fought with father, didn't you?" Jarred asked, concern in his voice.

"Need you ask that question?" Jareth sighed. "When do I not fight with him? But no matter, I can handle things myself should the council prove recalcitrant. I was just hoping to stave off the whole mess. Speaking of the council, I suppose I had better go prepare. But I will find you after, if I haven't been torn into pieces. Bye, little brother."

They hugged briefly once more, and then Jareth left to prepare to face his doom.

And doom was what it was. Jareth reemerged late that afternoon with a raging headache and a strong desire for celvassy. Making a beeline for his room, he entered, stripped off his jacket, loosened his shirt and stretched out on his bed without bothering to take his shoes off.

The mere memory of being grilled by those stony-eyed, soberly dressed bureaucrats made him shudder. This was what he had expected, certainly, but not what he had hoped for. It was up to him, now, to stop the madness. He could anticipate help from no other kingdom. This is what I deserve, he thought bitterly, for alienating the High King.

Again he wished for Sarah. He found himself missing her more and more with every breath, with every thought. He wondered what she was up to, and how she was settling into a life so different from what she was used to. He laughed at that thought, because he knew that she had already settled. She was as much a part of the Underground now as he was.

Standing reluctantly, he crossed to his desk and pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill. He would have to write Ter this instant, and tell him of his plans to stay. Scribbling a quick, sparsely worded note, he sanded and sealed it. Then, on second thought, he pulled out a second sheet and wrote a lengthier message to Sarah, regretting his need for an extended stay and expressing his love for her. A servant entered as he was signing this one, and reported that Jarred requested his presence in the courtyard.

Handing the two notes to the footman and quickly donning his fur-lined cloak, the Goblin King made his way downstairs where Jarred stood, pale and wan and warmly dressed, between their saddled horses. Not a word passed between them, but in an instant, they were both mounted and off.

The Queen Mother sat and watched her two sons disappear quickly down the road – one so strong and sure, like a sunbeam, the other as fragile as the first pale shoots of grass after a long winter. A silent tear rolled down her cheek: a physical manifestation of a lifetime of sorrows and regrets. A chill wind blew through the open window and dried the liquid memorial on her cheek. Turning away, she silently wheeled herself back to her bed, hating the spineless wretch she had become in her old age.

Gritting her teeth with determination, she struggled to stand, willing strength into her twisted, useless legs. As if to spite her, her arms collapsed under her own dead weight, knocking her back into her chair. She suppressed a cry of frustration and gathered her strength for another attempt. The queen mother surged up out of her chair, landing with a soft thud awkwardly on the bed – her upper body had made it, but her legs and abdomen dangled futilely beneath her. As she reached up to pull herself further onto the mattress, she felt gravity begin its inevitable pull downward. To save herself she grabbed for the sheets, but they offered no purchase as she drug them into the floor on top of her.

The metallic taste of blood flooded her mouth and though she couldn't be sure she judged she'd bitten through her lip and knocked out a tooth in the bargain. She was too proud and too ashamed to call out for help, though the salt of her tears soon commingled with the blood leaking down her chin, burning her worthlessness into her every nerve. She would try again to pull herself up, and again she would fall, but in the end, she would conquer. That was how it had always been.

From another window, not too far distant, Jenrian also watched the two brothers ride away. As he always did whenever he had a confrontation with Jareth, he cursed himself for not being a better father, for not being a better king, for not being a better Fae. He hated and revered his oldest son in measures so strong he sometimes felt he could explode from their conflict within him.

Jareth will make a fine High King someday, he thought. At least, finer than I ever was or could ever hope to be. It was his jealousy over this fact, and his anger at Jareth over the Dulsinea incident that caused him to react so violently whenever he was forced to converse with his heir. And still he couldn't help but compare him with all his other children – both legitimate and bastard – and think of what a magnificent specimen he had become.

I think I'm gonna end it there. Sorry so short, but bear with me. The next chapter's gonna be a short one too, and then back to the action. : )


	8. Chapter 6: Into the Mystic

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

AN All right. I know this chapter is rather short. Distinctly miniscule if I do say so myself. However, I want to say that I added it so you could get a feel for the relationships between some of the main characters in the book before any really heavy action picks up. Some of the things that happen here will play heavily on future events in the story (hint hint).

CHAPTER 6: INTO THE MYSTIC 

We were born before the wind

Also younger than the sun

Ere the bonnie boat was won as we sailed into the mystic

Hark, now hear the sailors cry

Smell the sea and feel the sky

Let your soul and spirit fly into the mystic

And when that foghorn blows I will be coming home

And when that foghorn blows I wanna hear it

I don't have to fear it

And I wanna rock your gypsy soul

Just like way back in the days of old

Then magnificently we will float into the mystic

And when that foghorn blows you know I will be coming home

And when that foghorn whistle blows I gotta hear it

I don't have to fear it

I want to rock your gypsy soul

Just like way back in the days of old

And together we will float into the mystic

Van Morrison--Into the Mystic

Jareth watched the sky fade from pitch to a pale grey with a foreboding feeling. He hadn't slept at all the night before, but had instead laid awake, thinking about his past mistakes. Occasionally, when the weight of the world on his shoulders became too much for him, he turned to thinking about Dulsinea, strangely. A haunting memory from his past, a constant reminder of his shortcomings and yet, at odd moments, the thought of her beautiful smile and refreshingly forward manner somehow seemed to comfort him. One day he would personally beg forgiveness from every one of the Nine for his stupidity, but that was for some other time, when fewer disasters were threatening to break over his head.

He had spent the past week at his father's court, pointedly avoiding Jenrian and trying his best to discover the cause of his brother's ailment. The man's internal turmoil was only visible, however, whenever Jarred thought the Goblin King wasn't watching. It was a dark, cold something deep down in his eyes – an unnatural abyss. Despite this mysterious void, Jarred was nothing but polite, courteous, attentive, and almost servile in his behavior toward his older brother throughout their time together. He was much like a love-starved puppy, finally receiving a few scraps of attention from a bored child.

This was Jareth's last day at court – he had been gone too long as it was, and Jarred had proposed they go out for drinks and entertainment that evening. Hoping to please the dying man and maybe draw him out from his shell, he agreed whole-heartedly. But as the grey dawn poured over the white walls of the castle and gently woke the beautiful countryside surrounding the court, he couldn't help but doubt his own decision. Sarah was now a constant contemplation to him – much like heroin is the single, haunting thought to the addict deprived of it. If he squinted slightly he could almost see her down below, herhazel eyes smiling at him. He shook his head, hoping to free himself of her, but she only smiled mockingly.

Sighing, he closed his eyes and she was gone. He would be with her soon enough, though never too soon.

The rest of his day was consumed with preparations for his leaving. He visited many of his old friends, and some of his old flames, and talked about life with his mother, who had a mysterious wound that she refused to explain. To make the afternoon pass more quickly, he even joined a picnic and gaming event with his old comrades from his wilder, adolescent years. He listened to them talk and laugh, joined in their activities, but it wasn't the same. They were all grown now, married (mostly to each other) with children and all possessing that jaded quality that overcomes adults when they begin to see themselves as such. Their petty gossiping ground on his nerves, their coquettish flirting set him on edge, and their condescending treatment of him, as though he were half-mad, boiled his blood. Still, it was a mostly enjoyable afternoon, and a refreshing reminder of how peaceful and sensible home was.

After an eternity of the day, the time to prepare had finally come, and he gladly took leave of his old friends. He changed in only a few minutes, and nervously paced the floor until it was time to meet his brother.

Sarah kept busy during Jareth's absence. She had begun work at the String Quartet – Caine and the others welcoming her warmly – designing attire for doormen and servants and serving women, as well as costumes for the elite guests of such illustrious events. She enjoyed it immensely, for it allowed her to flex her creative muscle and tap into that long-forgotten, fantasy-loving spirit she had once possessed, or that had once possessed her, she wasn't sure which.

It was a peaceful week, and she missed Jareth immensely, but she had compensations that her lover didn't. Ter's every waking moment, spare or no, was devoted to making Sarah's life easier and fuller. She woke up every morning to a bouquet of exotic and wonderful-smelling flowers, and delighted in surprise picnics and afternoon rides. Their connection at The Silver Unicorn had opened a door between them, and there wasn't a moment when they were alone that they didn't have their hands on each other.

She found herself appreciating him more and more, not just for his gentle, skilled caresses but also for his mind, and she came to understand him in a way that she hadn't ever really understood anyone. By the end of the week they could oftentimes be found together by the lake in the center of the woods, holding each other, both more satisfied with their slight touch than they would have been had they spent the day in passionate lovemaking. Despite their closeness, Ter didn't feel the need for sex; he instead appreciated her company, her warmth, and her deep awareness of him. It was the first relationship he had had with a woman – outside of his sisters and mother – that hadn't been based solely on physical attraction, and he found himself more complete than he had ever been.

On the day before Jareth was supposed to return, they sat together by the lake, watching the peaceful lapping of the waves against the shore. Ter had his arm around Sarah's waist and her hand clasped in his own while her legs stretched luxuriously across his lap and her head rested comfortably in the hollow of his neck.

"Why are you here, Sarah?" Ter asked, bringing her hand up to kiss to tips of her fingers gently.

"I told you, Ter: I don't really know why I'm here. I just know that I don't want to go back Aboveground."

He stopped and shifted so he could look into her eyes. "No, Sarah. I don't mean 'why are you Underground.' I mean why are you here **_with me_**?"

Sarah felt her heart melting. He looked so forlorn. His grey eyes were like storm clouds that had rained themselves out and now awaited their imminent destruction by the sun. A lump formed in her throat, and though she tried, she couldn't choke words around it. Instead, she smiled at him through watery eyes. When he didn't turn away or smile, she took her free hand and placed it on his cheek. She could feel the heat radiating from his every pore, and she moved in to kiss him gently.

At first he responded to her touch, but after only a few seconds stopped her, pushing her away. "No, I'm serious, Sarah. Why are you here with me?"

She didn't know what to say. She enjoyed his company, his touch, his scent, but did she have a legitimate reason for this intimacy, this leading on? Or was she like all those girls back at her high school: in it for the flowers and the gifts and the late nights but nothing else?

"Because whenever I'm not with you, it's like the sun doesn't shine as brightly. You make me laugh. I love the feel of your fingers on my skin, and your eyes on my face. I love the way you make me feel."

He shook his head derisively. "But you don't love me, do you?"

"I can't answer that."

She saw a single tear sliding down his cheek and wished for lightning to strike her. This was not her goal. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed it away. "Ter…" she whispered.

He lifted her arms from around him and clasped her hands tightly in fingers that had gone deathly cold. "No, Sarah. Stop."

Horror filled her. What had she done?

Still clasping her hands, he pulled her to him, holding her close.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." This is my punishment, he thought. Raven told me it would happen, and I never believed her. Now, after so many years of loving and leaving women, it's my turn.

They sat in silence, holding each other for what seemed an eternity.

"I need to start trusting these bad feelings more often," Jareth muttered to himself as the serving maid wended her way toward them with a pitcher of ale and two dubious-looking tankards. It took her much longer than it should have, mostly because in just the short distance from the bar to their well-lit table, she had her bottom pinched by almost every patron of the grungy tavern, and he saw several sloppy kisses planted on the round mounds of her poorly-concealed breasts. By the time she made it to their table, more than half the ale had spilled, soaking her and her attire. When Jarred paid her, she pulled the grubby lace even farther from her bosom and dropped the coin in with a saucy wink.

"What did you say, brother?" Jarred asked, pouring them both glasses and downing most of his in a single swig. The Goblin King studied his tumbler carefully, wiping the dirty fingerprints from the rim as best he could.

"I said here's to good times and brotherhood," and without waiting for a reply, Jareth downed his drink, trying his best not to touch his lips to the rim of the glass. He repressed a grimace as the foul-tasting brew oozed down his throat.

The Prince finished off his drink with a smile and replied, "Here, here!" loudly. It must have been some sort of secret mating call, for several whores who had been speculating in various other parts of the room all stood as one and began making their way towards the brothers. They must smell money, Jareth though. It wasn't long before almost every prostitute in the room had abandoned their various prospects to come sniffing around the royal table. The Goblin King, not wanting to offend his brother, tried desperately to hide toward the back of the table and take short, shallow breaths from his mouth, mostly to avoid throwing up.

"Come on, Jareth, loosen up!" Jarred cried, clutching two wenches to his lap – one a scrawny redhead with a spackle of freckles across her nose, and the other a voluptuous, dark-skinned, black-haired thing. Grasping the skirt of the next-nearest one, he shoved her laughing at his older brother. The girl, who couldn't have been old enough to marry yet, wrapped her arms around Jareth from behind, her stinking breath hissing in his ear. She nearly drowned him in the ocean of her cheap perfume, which poorly masked the stench of unlaundered linens and sweat.

"Your brother's right, Your Majesty," she slurred, "Loosen up."

He shrugged her off with a roll of his shoulder, trying hard to ignore the greasy handprints left on the expensive fabric of his shirt. She sniffed haughtily and flounced over to where one or two of her compatriots sat on the stairs, paying no heed to their jeers and catcalls as she climbed to a step where she could be alone and pout as visibly as possible.

This was the most miserable he'd ever been. His temper rose in him like hot gorge and he fought the urge to toss Jarred over his shoulder and carry him out of the building, kicking and screaming. Whatever was eating his little brother from the inside out had come to the surface this evening after a few drinks, but its true identity remained hidden behind a mask of self-destructive behavior. Jareth hid a sneer of disgust as the raven-haired whore turned to straddle Jarred's leg.

How much more can I take? Jareth wondered. He resorted to entertaining himself with thoughts of Sarah, imagining the sensation of her soft skin. Eventually, it was almost as if he could smell her, and her scent drowned out everything else. He was protected from the filth by the cocoon of her distinct perfume.

"Jareth, are you all right?" Jarred looked concerned, though the effect was ruined by the redheaded woman biting his lower lip and the alcohol he had consumed.

"Yes, little brother, I'm fine."

"You don't look like you're having a good time."

"No, I'm having a great time."

"I don't believe you." Jarred's eyes narrowed, and his brother sensed an outburst. The Goblin King remained silent, staring down into his glass.

"Poor, precious little Jareth," he sneered across the table, "always has to have everything his way. And he gets it, because he's the favorite, the golden child."

Jareth continued to examine his ale closely, effectively blocking out the taunting tone. He couldn't deny that he had been the favorite while he had been at home, but after falling out with his father, he had essentially relinquished his "golden child" status, as Jarred put it.

"What more could you possibly want, dear brother?" The man's voice began getting louder, and slowly the other noise in the taproom died out.

Quietly, Jareth replied, "I want to return to my castle, Jarred. And I want you to come with me."

Several emotions warred for supremacy on his face. Finally, a strange emotion seemed to win as red stains appeared on the cheeks of his otherwise pallid face. "You really want me to come back with you?" He whispered.

"I truly do. I think some fresh air would do you good. Mother, while she means well, keeps you cooped up in that castle far too much for your own good." He instantly knew he'd said the wrong thing when the flush left Jarred's cheeks and his eyes narrowed.

"That would be just perfect for you, wouldn't it Jareth? You'd like that. You get to go back to your human whore, and you get to keep an eye on me – make sure that I don't do anything that would embarrass you and ruin your chances for the High Throne."

"It's not like that…" The Goblin King couldn't believe that his brother would be so blind.

"Yes it is. You can't deny it. Well, if you want to leave so badly, go." He gritted his teeth and fumed for a second before continuing, "Get. On. Your. Horse. And. LEAVE!"

"Don't let us part like this. You are my brother. What must I do to heal this rift between us?"

"There is nothing you can do. To me, you no longer exist." The prince turned and stared into his drink.

"Jarred…" His brother said quietly, aware that every eye in the house was on them.

He didn't respond. Exasperated, Jareth turned and walked out the door, his footsteps echoing in the eerily silent taproom.

Outside, he took a deep breath of cool night air and fought back a scream of frustration. Was it jealousy? Was that what was haunting Jarred? What was there to be jealous of?

Aikanaro blew softly at him and lipped at his hair. "I know old boy. I'm ready to go home too." He sent one last, miserable look through the open door, and mounted his horse. Without any encouragement, the little stallion began racing for home.

Sarah and Ter sat in silence for a few more minutes, but the situation was too different to ignore.

"I think we'd better leave." Ter said quietly, and he stood, brushing the dirt off of his black attire. Sarah couldn't look at him.

They rode back in silence, each lost in their own reverie. At the gates, as they dismounted, Sarah reached out to take Ter's hand, grasping his fingers lightly, afraid he would pull away. "Listen," she said, but before she could finish he gave her that same sad smile and put a finger to her lips.

"Say no more, my love," he replied, and strode inside. Sarah thought her heart would burst.

She quickly ran inside, but he was already gone. All she wanted was peace, a quiet place to cry. Why is that when I finally have a chance at happiness, I screw it up? Was I not meant to find love?

She opened to door to her room, ready to dive into the soft covers and curl up, but she found Raven already occupying that space. Sarah stopped dead. "Huh?" Was all she could say.

"When Ter walked in a minute ago, he didn't look happy. I figured you could use some comforting." She patted the bed next to her with a tender smile.

Still a bit taken aback, Sarah sat and pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on her folded arms.

"Care to talk about it?" Raven asked, afraid to touch the girl, but wanting to somehow make her feel better.

"I'm not sure what happened. We were just sitting there, and all of a sudden Ter got really serious and asked me if I felt anything for him and I… I couldn't say yes! I wanted to, but somehow I couldn't. And now he hates me."

"There, there. He doesn't hate you." She tilted Sarah's head back so she could look directly into her eyes. "Ter is impetuous and used to women falling instantly in love with him. He just needs some time to adjust to a different kind of woman, another kind of relationship. Go talk to him tomorrow morning. I promise you, he won't think any different of you than he did this afternoon."

"You really think so?"

"I know so." She smiled. "I also know we really haven't had the opportunity to become familiar with each other since you've arrived, Sarah. That is a regrettable fact that I intend to rectify this very instant. So, tell me about yourself."

Sarah was taken aback. Here was a confidant, someone willing to listen to all her problems. But would a Fae woman, thousands of years older than her, be interested in the silly imaginings of a human barely out of childhood? "What do you want me to say?"

"Everything. Tell me all about you."

"There's not much to tell. I'm eighteen, and up until recently I was preparing to go to college to study acting. I had a little brother named Toby that Jareth once kidnapped. Rather, a little brother that I once foolishly wished away. I wrecked my car the afternoon that I was supposed to leave for college, and woke up Underground. And the rest, you pretty much know."

Raven shook her head. "That's not what I mean. Your life Aboveground is pretty much meaningless down here. As far as I'm concerned now, you're as Fae as I am, and you certainly look the part. No, what I'm asking, Sarah, is a question that I suppose one cannot answer about oneself." She mused quietly to herself for a second. "So what about you and Ter? You two seemed to be getting along so well this week." Dangerous territory, the Fae thought. I must tread carefully.

"I don't know. I'm in such a dilemma. I have feelings for Ter. That much I do know. But I also have feelings for Jareth. And what I feel for each of them in no way undermines or cancels out my feelings for the other. Is it possible to love two people so completely and in two such different ways? Is it possible to love anyone so much after only just getting to know them? I'm all mixed up inside until I just don't know how I feel. And if I said any of this to either of them, I'd alienate them both."

"It sounds like you have been at war with yourself over this."

"I have. And I never come up with an answer. That's why I choked this evening. When he asked me if I had feelings for him, all these horrible, confusing emotions I've been having just came whirling up in my mind and I didn't know what to say."

"Can you describe your two loves to me? Maybe, if you talk it out, you'll be able to sort it out."

"Well, I guess if I had to describe them, it would go something like this: Jareth, to me, is like water – I need him to survive; he sustains me. Just having him near me refreshes me and makes me feel all right with myself. He calms me and keeps me sane. But if Jareth is like cool water, then Ter is like heady wine. Whenever he's near, I'm caught up in this... euphoria. His very touch sends shivers down my spine. His every word just serves to drive me further into drunkenness until I feel I could do anything. I'm fearless around him." She blushed. "I'm kind of embarrassed, telling this to his sister."

"It's okay, Sarah. I've heard worse from the man himself. I get to listen to his account of all his escapades." She gave Sarah a commiserating smile.

"So what do I do? Water, wine, wine, water? I always end up talking myself in circles, or into silly, meaningless metaphors, and farther away from the true question."

"It seems to me, Sarah, that only time will tell for this particular issue."

The moon rose high overhead as Jareth rode hard for his castle. He was thinking all the time about how crazy the world had become. Wars started over nothing, brothers turning against brothers, fathers turning against children. He missed the days of his childhood when he woke every morning looking forward to the adventures ahead.

Things had been so simple then, and with just a smile and a wheedling tone he could negotiate his way out of anything. Even that time that he had been caught with one of the maids seemed like a fond memory compared to what he dealt with everyday.

Is there something that's causing this? Some imbalance in the magic, some sick disturbance at the core of the world itself? He vowed that he would find out . Meanwhile, all he could do was prepare himself for the worst, and hope for the best.

These were the dark thoughts that occupied the Goblin King's mind on the road.

After Raven left, Sarah felt immensely relieved. While talking it out didn't solve her problems, it helped her see things more clearly. She lay down, curling up into the fetal position as she had when she was a little girl. She felt her eyelids getting heavy almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. And she surrendered peacefully.

In the final hours of darkness as Sarah slept the sleep of the innocent, her door cracked open silently. A dark figure slid through and closed the door behind it. Sarah slumbered on. The figure crept closer and closer to her bed until it was at the very edge, staring down at her.

It stood, frozen, watching her sleep for a long time before it moved again. It walked softly around the bed to the other side, and there were two muffled thumps. Then, it lifted the sheets and slid next to Sarah on the bed. She mumbled softly, and then settled again. Putting its arm around her, the figure cuddled close to her, taking in the scent of her hair.

A stray moonbeam, lost with no maiden to highlight in its radiant bath, somehow found its way through the curtains of Sarah's room. Searching, curious, it crawled across her bed and gasped to discover the Goblin King and the beautiful maiden comfortably curled together.


End file.
